How to Capture an American Idiot's Heart
by LadySkarlettofSkaro
Summary: Operation: American Idiot. Mission: capture Alfred Jones' heart and make him mine. O-or make me his…that would be nice too. Target of choice: America AKA, Alfred F. Jones . Time limit: until I have him. O-or he has me….Either or. All I know? I'm going to make Alfred Jones fall in love with me. No matter what it may take. USUK eventually, multiple mentions of others
1. Prologue

**I own nothing but the plot. All characters, unless stated otherwise, belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. Enjoy :)**

* * *

There comes a time in one's life- mortal or country- when one's heart is hopelessly captured. At one time or another, he or she will fall in love, their heart seized by the grip of longing for lust and love. And when it is, it will break.

Harshly.

Brutally.

…

Well then.

Doesn't this seem like my life story.

I'm not going to deny it, my love life has been…strange and scary when thought about. I don't wish to go into detail, but I will say I've had several…_mishaps_ with who either dragged me in or had been dragged _by_ me. Yes, there have been times when the shag was bloodily amazing, but I've also had my share of rapes, both given and received. I somewhat forgave the assaulters…somewhat being the key word. It's not a big deal, really; I've lived without love for years on end (which _may_ be why I'm one of the rainiest countries _ever_). It's just…

No one ever made me feel like what I do right now, and that's all gladly thanks to him.

Yes, him. The one with the baby blue eyes. The one with the smile that makes you grin back. The one who left my behind in the rain and constantly assaults me with words, who will never forgive me for treating him like I did.

Yes…

Him.

So yes, I suppose you could say that...I-I _have_ been somewhat fantasizing of me and him together. Nothing big, really: me in his arms and safe from harm; he with a warm smile that makes me melt; the two of us under the covers, just lying in each other's arms, sharing so much with one touch; our lips suddenly together heatedly- roaming, searching, _longing_; wanting to reach more than just the barrier of skin; hands touching, roving, caressing; him sliding into me oh-so-carefully while causing so much pleasure, whispering words so little yet so meaningful—

Ahem…

…

I believe it started when I found him in the New World. Before that, I had always been the little brother; "Little England", my siblings called me, or even the dreaded "_mon petit rosbif_" from that fucky frog face. Obviously, I hated it when they cooed and called me "Babby Artie", but nonetheless I knew I couldn't ever hate them. However, it was my dream for some reason to be a better brother to someone else. I was always called worthless and a "no-good representative for the United Kingdom", so I always wanted to prove I was better than them, that I wasn't like them. That was my goal in the 1600s, right when I started to become a bit…cleaner, considering it was after my darkest moments thus far. Not a whole lot cleaner, however, since there was still other wars to continue on, such as the Seven Year's War (or the French and Indian War, whichever you prefer) to gain that one nation's name that slips my mind (America's look-alike brother, god dammit, what was his name…), and that one war that…nearly destroyed me… B-but the point is, I became calm enough to make myself look like a brotherly figure.

So imagine my delight when I find the opportunity to take in a little boy, so small and helpless and innocent to the world in a little white frock, romping around as if he would always be free and guiltless. But then I found him, the first of many that I would be given the chance to raise. I vowed to protect him with my life and beyond. He happily grew up in a stable (non-French) environment, and made a good century of memories with me: climbing up trees and nearly falling (and dying, mind you) out of them, and actually managing to break his arm one time; running near and in the Hudson River (to which I sadly had to save him, despite my inability to swim- most pirates can't, anyways), searching for rabbits and racing the other in fields of wheat because we were able to and no one could stop us…

…

…he breaking my heart into unfixable pieces and not even bothering to mend it. Not even a little bit. It was almost as if he refused to, just like he refused to be seen as my brother. It destroyed me; ripped my heart to shreds and left it to die in an empty cavern where no living person, nation or human, could find or fix it. And that was too much for me.

I guess you could say I fell in love with him as he grew up. I always loved how cute he was, with his innocent face and curious, sapphire eyes. He always repaired me when my brothers or the French douche-frog were teasing me and bringing me down. I remember he would reach over and hold my hand, eyes bright with unshed tears when I was unhappy…and each word, every "Engwand", he uttered always perked me up, always made me smile again, always made me hold him and sit with him, just to soothe me. He brought so much joy in my life when he was ruled by me, even towards the end. And his voice…it sounded like heaven to me, so smooth and clear like a river.

…

But then…that same voice was used to harm me. It used dark, forbidden words to scar my heart. It shed me to bits of paper that flew away in a gust of wind, never to be put together again. And that has made a difference.

I don't understand what I ever did wrong to him. Why did he destroy me? Why did he hurt me so badly? Why did I have to be hated like this? Leaving me alone, sobbing under a gray sky; I _hated_ him because I loved him and yet he destroyed me! As soon as he was grown and handsome and old enough to understand love, I realized just what I felt for him, and wanted more than the ordinary heart fluttering at his every movement, every talk we had. It was peaceful back then, no matter what he says, and he ruined it! With those words that I hated so _much!_ "Consider me independent!" Like I would! Was I not good enough for him? Was I not fair to him? I gave him plenty of freedoms, and he screwed everything up! It wasn't _my_ fault I had given him those acts- _Coercive_, Intolerable, whatever you damn Americans call it! He _asked_ for those! So I _gave_ them to him! I handed them down to him, tried to be a good brother to him, and in return I end up with _betrayal!_

…

…Maybe…

…

Maybe I should just let it go. I've loved him more than I could ever live. And maybe…just maybe…it's time to stop and let him go. I've hold on for too long.

…

Yes, I'll….I'll do that. I won't think about him any longer. I'll just put him out of thought; ignore him; not acknowledge. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

…

…

But his eyes….I can't get enough of them.

…

Ugh; I sound like a lovesick school girl who wants to be in love with the jock of the school.

…I…guess it's not very surprising, though. I've never craved anyone like I have for him.

Maybe…

…

Yes…

Instead of sitting here daydreaming of his love, why don't I just try and…attract him over to me?

…

Ooh.

…

That might work, actually.

Operation: American Idiot. Mission: capture Alfred Jones' heart and make him mine.

O-or make me his…that would be nice too….

Target of choice: America (AKA, Alfred F. Jones).

Time limit: until I have him.

O-or he has me….Either or.

All I know?

I'm going to make Alfred Jones fall in love with me.

No matter what it may take.


	2. Keep Secret From Siblings: Failed

**SEASON FIVE.**

**OH MY GOD. SEASON FIVE.**

**FEEEEEEEEEEEEELS ****.**

**Okay, just gonna post this and leave. To those who are new to my story: Welcome! Benvenuto~! :D Expect some serious fangirling and feels from my stories. To those who know my stories: heeeeeey~ :D Party in the Feels House~! XDD Okay, I think I'm good for now.**

**Also, ***WARNING: Some sort of form of masochism or something from Iggy, soooooo yeah :I** BEWARE IF YOU DON'T WANNA READ*****

**Oh, and sorry for the immense usage of English/Scottish/Irish slang. Some is easy to get, like prick and git and twat and twit and daft, but some are a bit more complicated. If you want a link to the dictionaries just in case, just ask :)**

**Soooooooooooo~ I own nothing but the plot and the Kirkland siblings. Iggy and America and familiar characters go to the prusome Hidekaz Himaruya :D As for now:**

**Enjoy~! :)**

* * *

Chapter 1:

Keep Secret From Siblings: Failed

I assume you know who I am by now? And if you don't, you daft Americans, then fuck off and shove it up your arse. I don't have time to play your stupid, ridiculous games.

Anyways…despite that, you SHOULD know me as Britain or England, Personification as well as Representative of the United Kingdom, specifically England. Or, Arthur Kirkland, former pirate and ruler of the seven seas…now a worthless nation who daydreams about tea time and magic and fairies (_which are bloody real if it weren't for me, wankers!_) and the day his young hero will come to rescue me.

And if you're dozy or dense or Spain, yes, I want to go after Alfred and capture his heart for mine.

So, if you do not want to hear about my and America's strange story, then bugger off. Now.

…

…

…

Good.

* * *

So, after organizing my plan thoroughly just last night, I was finally able to smoothly go to sleep. And no, I didn't have a dream I had been saved from my own loneliness (while I was wearing a bloody green _leotard_ with a yellow cape and tight red outfit, my body couldn't bloody breathe thanks to the damn tights) by a bat-like character who swooped me into his arms and took me away before I discovered underneath his mask was America _before_ he took my away to some magical place called his bedroom and we did some amazingly wonderful snogging before we finally had mind-blowing sex and he made me see every corner of the bleeding _world._

I did not dream that.

So bugger off.

In about a few days would be the first World Conference of September. There were two meetings each month, every other week in a selected location. This time, London would be the host city, which was a big relief for me. I didn't have to do much except drive over to my capital after leaving Liverpool, and plan _when_ I should put my plan in motion.

And yes, I wasn't in London, but Liverpool. Because my bleeding siblings _insist_ we bond at least every Sunday, which was yesterday and a complete disaster, and they refused to do so in London (calling it loud and disgusting, and meanwhile they need to look in a mirror). Their view on bonding was entirely different, however, and consisted of yelling at each other excessively until one gave up (at least, that's how William and Maggie saw it), and trying to maintain the peace (for Charles, at least; Dillan, or North as we called him, could either care less or did something about it when it gets too unruly). But their main mission was to annoy the living _bleeding shit_ out of me.

…

I'd rather _not _tell you about them, but…let me just clear up a few things for you.

First, there's Scotland; William Kirkland. He's the oldest and most obnoxious of my siblings, and the most protective. And the strongest of us, so if you get him pissed you're screwed for life. Next comes Ireland; Maggie Kirkland, even though her real name is Margaret but she hates the bleeding name and will murder anyone who calls her so. She's the toughest (not physically) of all of us, I would say. She's also more of a major alcoholic than I am, and when she gets drunk…stay a very _very __very_ **_very _**long distance _away_ from her unless you want her to be raging on at you mercilessly. After her, is Northern Ireland; Dillan Kirkland. He's the most troublemaking- mischievous, you could say- of us British Isles regions. I remember he used to travel to farms and let all the animals out of their pens and shave the sheep's skins off, before spreading it all over the gardens like cobwebs. But despite that, he tries to keep his twin Maggie under control, even though it's not usually a good idea. Afterward comes Wales; Charles Kirkland. He's the quietest, and can keep his rare anger controlled, as well as hold his liquor so it's near impossible to get him drunk. Tipsy, maybe, but not drunk. He's also the brother to go for when you need advice, so he's helped out a lot. Charlie's also the only brother who really understood me, having being the second-youngest.

And then there's England; Arthur Kirkland; me. The most gentlemanly out of my siblings. Shall I continue?

Of course not. You already know enough about me to be utterly bored with me. So bugger off.

I climbed out of bed, trying to ignore the din from downstairs as best I could while I went to the shower. Right now, the yelling was loud and intense, so I didn't really want to bother that. I'd wait a few minutes before going downstairs and disturbing them, otherwise I'd most likely be beheaded with a plate.

...

They're the Kirklands; we can do _anything._

About ten minutes later, after I was done and the yelling had diminished to simple snaps, I stepped out and proceeded to dry myself, shaking my hair free of water before wrapping a towel around my waist and staring at my reflection. That's when I realized just how _dumb_ I was being with my plan.

_Really?_

_You think you can capture his heart for your own good? Look at you: pale skin like a vampire, dead caterpillars that you call eyebrows above your dull, green-tinted eyes, hair that always looks like a damn rogue's or punk's, a body too skinny and far from anything perfectly shaped or well-toned…_

I sighed; why would he want to go for me anyway? There was nothing great or special about me. I was just a sixteen-hundred-and-two-year-old former empire that actually tried to make myself seem, well…better than I actually was.

Maybe all of this was just a waste. America was never going to fall for me. I was hardly attracted, both inside and out.

I have a foul mouth that would turn anyone away.

I'm a fail of an empire that has nothing but entertainment in both music and television, the Olympics in the summer coming up, and a British Commonwealth to keep me well-known and from sinking.

I can be quite rude when I want to be, despite my use of manners.

I'm a wasteful alcoholic that can't seem to stop.

I turn small problems the size of the universe, for some reason.

I'm just…no good for anyone. No one wants to stay with me. No one but Merlin, Holmes and Juliet, my three pets. Merlin, my white-and-orange cat, is just as grumpy and stubborn as me so he doesn't mind much, and Holmes and Juliet, my Yorkshire terriers, are too energetic to even care, just as long as they get some love.

But…America wouldn't care about that, would he? He would overlook my flaws, right? I remember him saying once that although Lithuania was as afraid and timid as a pantophobic, he was one of the kindest countries he had ever met. (Which is a bit true, even though I was bloody jealous at the time…) So, he won't look at my downsides, right? Hopefully not?

…

I have to stop thinking before I've had my morning tea. I think of the strangest things when I do.

I quickly dressed myself into a white button down shirt and my brown trousers (or should I say _slacks_ for those who don't wish to understand the correct terms of English?) and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen, where the ugly fighting was currently breaking out from being peaceful to rowdy. And it was, once again, ugly_._

William had decided to jump over the table and crawl across the top just to reach our sister. His clothes were covered with bits of breakfast and _that better not be __**MY**__ scones on the ground so these twats better beg for help if they want to live!_, his hair drenched in what I hoped was tea. Maggie looked similar to him, food-covered-in-clothing wise, but her hair was knotty and unruly, with bits of cream cheese stuck inside it. The two of them were on top of the table, knees dipped into what looked like and hopefully was marmite, trying to strangle the other around Dillan and Charles, both who were struggling to keep the two eldest away from each other.

And the _shouting_ was _horrendous._ Honesty, there were curses in there that _I_ wouldn't even bloody say.

But this is a normal Sunday morning for The Kirkland family, believe it or not. So it's no surprise they were trying to kill each other. Maggie has a short temper, and William _always_ manages to say the _wrong_ thing. Then, of course, Dillan would interfere just for the hell of it and Charles will try and push our oldest brother away, and guess who has to clean up the bloody mess like a bleeding _maid?_

…

That's right.

"Baby Artie", who was currently planning how to shut his older siblings up. And when you're British, what's the best way to get someone's attention?

"Oi!"

That's right. Just yell "Oi" to a load of wanks, and they'll shut right up.

And did they shut up.

* * *

Another thing about my siblings: we all have piercing glares. Even with our different shades of green eyes, we can manage the sharpest glare at _anyone_. And it's very intimidating, I must admit. So when a glare's aimed at another sibling, it's not so threatening, right?

Wrong.

Because the glares I received would be able to hurt a brick wall.

"Well then, look who decided t'wake up from dreamin' about his boyfriend," William retorted, and I once again flinched at the looks they gave me.

"He's not my boyfriend," I grumbled. Unfortunately, my brothers and sister had found out about my little crush for Alfred (I should really consider keeping those love letters I never send somewhere safer…or stop drinking around them on the fourth of July). And due to that, they sort of, well…hate him because of it. Well, Scotland and North do at least. Ireland always had a soft spot for the colonies I had raised, especially America (they both always had an urge to climb anything taller than them), and Wales somewhat approved of him; found him a bit too rowdy. He usually preferred the quieter, less rowdy nations like America's brother, What's-His-Face, the one I took from the frog.

…

…

Africa?

No…banana?

Armada?

…

…

Hm…what's his bloody name, dammit?

…

…

Ah! Canada!

…

…

Bugger off.

"Ya certainly love him, though," my sister smirked, crossing her arms over her chest as she swung her legs over the table edge. My cheeks brightened as I struggled to find the right words, and she chuckled. "Don't worry, ya know yer ol' siblin's aren't goin' ta spread tha warrd."

I huffed. Like I would believe that. The last time _any_ of them kept a secret, Shakespeare had just written "Romeo and Juliet". No; when that blasted Columbus bastard landed on _my_ colony in fourteen-ninety-something (if he's Spanish or whatever, I don't care to know about him). I simpered. "As if any of you can keep a secret. Besides Charlie; he's the only one I can bloody trust out of you lot."

Dillan placed a hand over his heart in mocked pain. "Ah, that hurt me, Little Arthur," he smirked. "Ya truly hurt me, baby brother. But next time, aim for me heart."

"I'll be aiming for something a lot lower than your heart with my foot if you don't tell me whot the bloody hell you're doing down here yelling like all hell broke loose," I glowered harshly. Yes, that's whot. I would like to write how I say a word when I speak. If you don't like it, then bugger off.

"Don't worry about it, Arthur, it was just a silly problem," Charlie gave a warm smile, patting my shoulder and calming me down a little as he did so. "Maggie just said something about your scones and Will opposed it; that's all."

Dillan snickered. "Oh yeah; those scones ya made last night? Yeah, tasted like horse shit."

Fist, meet Asshole Dillan's Face. Asshole Dillan's Face, meet my fist.

"All I said was that they tasted like charcoal!" My sister protested, sliding off the table and placing her fists on her hips, her twin groaning at her feet (oh, what a nice black-and-blue ring you have around your eye, Dillan! Did Baby Artie hurt you?). Despite never being tall at all when she didn't wear four-inch hells (she was at least five-two without them; shorter than Japan), she had one hell of a Napoleon complex. Honestly, I think she's bipolar or something. They all are.

Bloody wankers.

My scones are delicious.

"How would ye even know wat charcoal ta'es like?" Will snapped, glaring at her and towering over her before glancing at me. "Yer scones didn't tas'e 'at bad, Baby A'tie, it was just 'at damn oven aga'n. I 'ink some'ing's wrong wi' it."

…

If there was one thing I liked about William, it would have to be the fact that he didn't mind my cooking.

"Something's wrong with yer head, ya mindless bitch-bag!" Maggie snapped, getting our elder brother's attention back on her.

"Don't use yer Irish slang wi' me, ye scurvy bawbag bastirt!" Will sneered back at her.

"Ya better shut that yap o' yers before ye get yerself a good banjax to yer arse!"

Charlie lightly tapped me on the shoulder. "Want to go outside while they duke it out?" He asked me, voice quiet so they wouldn't hear through the insults they often used. Honestly, I loved to use my insults and slang as much as the next Brit, but there were times when I could hold it back. And when they started dueling each other verbally…well, let's just say I like to get involved sometimes with my own words.

Unfortunately, Maggie somehow saw us and scoffed. "Just like good ol' Charlie ta run away with the shrimpy lil' punk!" She sneered at us. I loved her sort of, sometimes, but she could be a downright bitch when she wanted to be. "Lil' English babby. Why don't ya just gro' up already?"

Before I could say anything, Charles had pulled me toward the door forcibly, tugging on my arm like a child trying to get a mother's attention. "Hey Arthur, let's see how your garden is, hm?" He offered with a gentle smile before I could insult Maggie, and before I knew it, the yells were blocked by a shut door and my brother and I were standing on the back porch quietly.

…

I was grateful for one sane sibling.

* * *

I took great pride in my garden. It was a quaint little thing that was loaded with flowers and plants and trees meant for shade. At first, I had made it for my fairy friends since they wanted a little homely place for when they visit me, so I started growing roses and other plants and before I knew it, there was a garden large enough to house a whole kingdom of fairies- at least, here in Liverpool. I didn't have one in London, since I don't live anywhere appropriate to hold one except for a few flowers on a windowsill, so most of the gardens are more in the rural areas. And I didn't even care that Will and Maggie hated it and North thought it was a waste of time. Charlie, who also could see my friends (_who aren't bloody imaginary, gits_), thought it was a splendid idea, and helps me care for it from time to time. And now, he pulled me away from the house and towards the middle, where we sat down on a wooden bench.

"I'm sorry they said that about your food," Charlie said as he gazed up at the leaves of the tree we sat under. Some tree fairies fluttered down on them giggling, and he smiled at them. "They don't know any better."

"They're such twats," I mumbled, staring at my shoes with a harsh glare. I wished I could burn them. Damn shoes. Damn brothers, damn sister. Damn American for making me fall in love.

Damn it. I don't know what else to curse. Damn.

"I know, I know, but we have to live with them for the rest of our lives," he answered.

I rubbed my hand under my nose (since when did I start crying over this?) and sniffled (what the hell?). "I don't care. They don't have to be so rude just because they're jealous and want whot I have." When our mother, Britannia, passed on, she handed down all the wisdom of Britain to me. While we're all "personified" nations, my siblings are part of the United Kingdom. "Britain" is just a title, and it has been mine since our mother disappeared and left us. All of her wisdom and such was handed to me, and I gained more and more of it over the years. However, it left quite a bit of a grudge over their heads, especially with William and Maggie. North and Charlie learnt to get over it, thankfully, but the other two were a bit sour over it. Still.

I looked over at my brother, curious. "Charlie?"

"Hm?"

"…Whot do you think Mum would think of us now?"

Wales shuffled a bit in his place before setting his folded hands in his lap, feet stretched out in front of him. "I'd think she'd be scolding Will, Mags and Dillan. She'd probably forget I was her son." The look he gave me next was one that I hadn't seen from my other siblings. "And she'd be just as proud at you as I am."

I couldn't help but smile. Why were the two of us the only sane siblings of the Kirkland's? "You mean that?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have said it, right?"

I smiled, pulling my legs up to my chin and resting my head on his shoulder. "Thank you for that…" I never had to pretend with him; I never had to be tough or be better than him. I could just be…myself, almost; in a serene kind of way. And for that, I adored him.

"Hey, Arthur."

"Hm?"

"What are you doing about the American problem?"

I sat my head up from his shoulder to look at him. "Whot do you mean 'problem'? There's no problem." There's no way he could know of my plan to win America over. I hadn't told any of them yet.

"By problem, I mean…well, because Will can't stop being a nosy bastard, he went into your room and started looking at your stuff and, well…he found this on your desk." He shuffled his hand into his pocket and rummaged around, before he pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Thought I'd give this to you before any of the daft blokes in there mentioned it."

I took the paper from his hand, unraveling it from its creases, and looked at my own cursive handwriting. Already, I knew what it was. This was the paper in which I had written my plan to capture America's heart. The very thing that I had wished that none of them would ever see.

God dammit!

All around the layout (throughout the doodles of fairies and Flying Mint Bunny and various creatures and little random notes here and there and oh bloody hell is that supposed to be a burger or a scone!) were little ideas and suggestions that I had written down:

"Make him hamburgers"

"Buy him coffee"

"Have a horror movie marathon with him"

"Give him an entire mountain of ice cream"

"Be kinder to him"

"Refrain from using slang when around him"

"Don't get furious if he suddenly becomes dense/rude/arrogant/irresistible and you're not his yet"

"Try to be alluring"

"Act unusual and/or shy around him"

Half of the stuff on here, I didn't even know what I was thinking. I even wrote down "Ask Frog for help if desperate" (with an amazingly drawn frog at the end…I really think I was drunk whilst conjuring up this list) and a less, well…_gentlemanly_ approach "Kidnap him, tie him down and fuck him until he begs for my love". And it only got worse when I had even put _names_ to call him: luv, poppet, darling, lovely, pet.

And those damn wankers knew about it.

Someone was going to die.

* * *

"H-how?" I managed to stammer out after the shock winded down to mere anger and homicide.

"Like I said," Charlie sighed, eyeing me warily, "he went through your stuff, found this and brought it to us."

I glared inside the house again to see what they were up to. Maggie and Dillan were off to the side chatting, North probably having to calm her down. William was nowhere to be seen, most likely cleaning his self before he left (it was the farthest distance for him to get back home, and he often left early to get to Edinburgh again). As soon as he came down, he was done. No, not even that. I'll go kill him right now!

Charles must have sensed I was planning something, because he put a hand on my shoulder. "Artie, relax. It's no big deal if they know, right?"

"It definitely is a big deal!" I snapped, whirring around to glare at him. "You don't have to worry about trying to get your former colony to love you again! I didn't want anyone to know about this!"

Okay, so I will admit, I did go a bit overboard with yelling at him.

Maybe a bit more.

…

…I didn't have any purpose or reason to yell at him.

There. Happy, wankers?

Charlie ran a hand through his hair with an exasperated exhale, and gazed at me with his olive green eyes in a serious state. "If you're upset, don't take it out on me, please. I don't have the strength to deal with all of you today."

"Bloody fucking fine then!" I stood up quickly and marched my way to the door, sliding the door open. Maggie and Dillan glanced over at me. "Where's Will?"

"Takin' a shower," my sister answered me, and I stomped up the stairs. "Whe'e do ya think yer goin', Babby Artie?"

"To give my older brother a good toe in the hole, that's whot!" I turned the knob of the door where I heard the water running.

"That's my line!" I heard Ireland coming up the stairs after me, but I didn't pay her any mind. My brother was more important right now, and here I stood, with a look that would kill him, and he halfway in the shower.

"Hello, Poof," he crossed his arms as he climbed all the way in, using the nickname that he knew would offend me. It only added more to my irritated and irked condition.

"You have about thirty ticks before I decided to round you about your face," I growled at him, trying to look furious even though he was nearly twenty centimeters taller than me (for you blokes who don't wish to understand my metric system, while I am five feet and seven inches, William is six feet, five inches, wankers). This look had worked on the Frog and Spain during medieval times and our pirating days, but I doubt it would work on William. Still, it might.

…

Nope. It didn't.

Damn.

Will feigned hurt and pursed his lips. "Now that's not very nice, is it? Ye really goin' ta hurt ol' Willie?"

"I will if that's whot it happens to come down to!" I snapped. "How many times have I told you to keep your godforsaken face out of my business, you prick! You know that I hate that!"

"It was just a joke, A'tie. Give me a break." He shut the shower curtain, blocking me of his view and his of mine, and turned the showerhead on.

"You goddamn twat!" The only thing I thought of at the moment, without thinking of consequences, was to go to the toilet, place my hand on the flush lever thingy, what'sitcalled, and hold it down until it sprung back up again. It only took three flushes and him increasing the water before a loud "Shite!" was cried out, and William jumped out of the shower, tumbling over the curtain and nearly falling on his arse.

I covered my mouth quickly. That's what he gets for messing with the former leader of the British Empire. Who was the one who gathered that again? Why, it's been so long, I don't remember.

Oh, wait a second.

That was me.

I didn't notice William had gone past me and locked the door until I heard his breath and voice against my ear. "Ye really wanted ta do that, A'tie?"

To anyone else, this might have sound threatening. To me, this meant death.

I tried to open my mouth, but as soon as I did, something that tasted like silk was soon in my mouth and tied behind my head. Before I could scream in shock, I was picked up and thrown into the tub (goddamn brothers being goddamn stronger than me…), fresh clothes and all, and under the cold shower water. I tried to get up, because _bloody hell that water is fucking freezing_, but before I could even so much as sit up, my wrists were tugged backwards and tied together, and my ankles were tied to the faucet where the water for the tub came out. Both my trousers and boxers were tugged down as far as they could go, and I already knew what was happening when he chuckled and pressed an egg-shaped object, a vibrator, into my arsehole. I trembled as it was put in without any preparation, and felt myself start to twitch and harden as it began to hum from being inserted.

All of this, in a matter of seconds.

Dammit, he's fast.

Remember how I said before how Will didn't mind my cooking?

Well…he's the only one who gets to bully me like this.

I moved my wrists just to see how far they could go without straining or hurting myself, and to my disappointment, it wasn't looking very good for me. I glared up at him, unable to speak due to how much the tie was in my mouth. I growled as a warning for him to let me go, but he only chuckled and flipped on the remote switch where it wasn't low, but it wasn't high either. I moaned past the gag, looking down to see I was hardening with each buzz inside of me.

…

I-I actually enjoyed that feeing…

…

Bugger the fuck off, wankers.

"Ye messed wi' the wrong person, A'tie," William stated above me. I growled, but it turned into something of pleasure when he turned the vibrator up a setting. How the hell did he even find this? "De ye kno' whot I'm gonna do?" He took the tie of the gag and pulled that and my hair backwards so that our eyes were forced to meet. "I'm thinking about going ta that meetin' on the day** (1)** an' tell yer poppet that ye have a plan ta get him."

My eyes widened and I shook my head, all the while trying to yell past that goddamn tie in my mouth. He couldn't do that! No, no, no! If he did that, then…I'd have to move to a new nation! Try and pass as a human! Never show my face to anyone! Maybe Australia can help me hide! Send me to the damn outback so my skin can roast! I would do anything to keep that a secret. I'll sell my house! I'll show up on the Frog's doorway with an erection and say he can do what he likes with me! I'll be my siblings' bloody _slave_, for all I care! I'll let Sealand become a nation!

…

Well, maybe not that last one.

No, definitely _not_ let Sealand become a nation. I already have too many headaches to deal with.

But no matter what, America must never know about my plan.

William seemed to know that as well, because he laughed at me, stroked my face even. I stopped myself from moving. If this is what it would take to keep my secret well-kept, then…I-I can live with that. I've been attacked by every medieval weapon there was. I destroyed the Spanish Armada. The sun, once upon a time, never set on my empire. I went through a blitzkrieg, and more wars than you will ever see. I can handle this, I'm sure. I'm the British Empire, for fuck's sake.

But, of course, I was also labeled the "Erotic Ambassador" after an embarrassing confession moment with Denmark and Prussia when we got a little too drunk after one of our usual drinking nights out (nations, unlike you lot, can remember what happened and what they did when they become drunk. Although it does give us one bloody hell of a hangover in the morning. And now that I remember, that was _quite _a long night.). Nevertheless, this damn vibrator was too nice. I even bloody fucking _mewled_. Like a goddamn child. And it wasn't even supposed to be that way.

"Are ye sorry fer messin' wi' me?" William asked me, still stroking my face (and still completely naked save for a towel and in front of me…disgusting pervert) as I shut my eyes and moved to the rhythm of the vibrations slowly. He slapped my arse with a cackle, causing me to cry out in alarm, but I relaxed again when I felt him untie my mouth gag and tug out the vibrator. I let out a breath, both in relief to breathe normally and in disappointment at the emptiness in my arsehole (that damn vibrator…it felt marvelous, wankers. You should really try it).

Then again, this was my brother torturing me, and therefore, it was improper.

"Goddamn it, Will," I sighed in irritation. "Can you involve punishment that isn't sexual for once?"

He only chuckled as a response as he stood up, dressing into his knickers and a ragged pair of jeans. "Has ye arse fallen aff yet?" Damn bastard thinks I'm bullshitting him? Heh, well then-

Wait, what does he think he's doing? Unlocking the door and turning the knob. "And where the bloody hell do you think you're going?" I shouted at him, still, unfortunately, bound in the bathtub with water still pouring down my back and chilling me and that damn half-mast arousal that was brushing against the bottom of the tub.

"A little mercy at a time, A'tie!" He called from down the hall. I let my head hang forward, banging itself lightly onto the porcelain of the tub.

Humiliation: what my brothers loved to see of their little brother.

All off their rockers, the whole lot of them.

At that moment, Maggie stormed into the bathroom- you should have seen her, five-foot-two had never looked so terrifying- and before I could even ask what the hell she was doing here, I felt something fleshy hit my eye at a harsh speed.

Ugh. I really should have been expecting that.

"That's fer using me word before, rossie babby," she snapped, and turned the shower off for me.

But left me tied.

In the bathtub.

With an erection.

Alone.

Those.

Damn.

Wankers.

**Notes:**

**(1): On the day is pretty much the Scottish version of today. Sorry for the immense slang terms, again :/**


	3. Avoid America at All Costs: Failed

**Whoaaaa this took a bit long to get out here, don't you think? No?**

**Anyways, hi again :) Sadly, school starts in August where I am, which sucks tremendously, and I don't really know how much time I'll have to write from now on :/ However, I'm a good student, and so far it seems like a select few of my teachers give homework, so it looks good so far :D Yaaay~**

**Oh, also, sorry if America seems a bit out of character. I think I wanted to give him a bit of an edge or a chip on his shoulder because of something that will be revealed later on, but otherwise that's how America is for this chapter. Hopefully, he'll be back to his cheerful self soon, right? :D**

**Oh, and ***WARNING*** There is a masturbation scene in the beginning. So please be careful about that, thank you :)*****

**So, to get started, I do not own anything but the plot and the Kirkland siblings, as well as the fairy concept/background info/whatever the hell it is. That one would be my own creation. All familiar characters go to the prusome Hidekaz Himaruya. And so:**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

Chapter 2:

Avoid America At All Costs: Failed

So yes.

Here is where I find myself: in the bathtub, bound, dressed, freezing.

Those wankers. Those bloody damn wankers.

Even Charlie, who didn't even bother to be a good big brother and check on me! Damn bastards… I'll get them later. As for right now, I had to focus on trying to move my body far enough so that I could possibly slide my ankles away from the-

A-ahhh…

…

I had forgotten about my problem down there for a second…

M-maybe I should just…d-do it again? J-just, rut against the tub?

…

O-oh dear God..,

_That_ is heavenly.

Ah…

No. Don't pleasure yourself, Arthur. Come on. You've been in worse binds than this before! Remember? A giant squid (no exaggeration, it nearly broke my ship, it was that large) tried to fuck you up once during your pirating days! You were nearly thrown into a black hole with the Doctor! For fuck's sake, you were a fucking empire! You ruled the world, once upon a time! You-

…

You fell in love. Your empire crashed. You survived the giant squid and the adventures with the Doctor, but…you didn't survive your journey with your heart, did you?

…

No.

Not one bit.

…

M-maybe, if I can just…y-yes…i-imagine him for a quick second, it'll-

Oh, God!

* * *

…

…

…

I can't tell you whether or not I reached my climax, _while_ rutting against the bathtub _while_ thinking about America.

Because it didn't happen.

Right as I was so close to reaching my end, just as I imagined the tip of my arousal (that was now dripping, mind you) being prodded at by his tongue that was usually used for talking…

I heard a quiet whisper, followed by little giggling that sounded vaguely familiar.

At first, I thought it was nothing to worry about- hell, it would go away soon! It wasn't anything, despite how constant the noise sounded. It was nothing!

…

For the second time in a row, the giggles and whisper were heard.

So I hadn't imagined them. And I should have recognized them the first them I had heard them.

But I hadn't, somehow. I hadn't recognized the little chit-chat or laughs until now. And now that I knew, it was too obvious.

Fairies.

…

Someone please smite me. Please smite me so I may die here in peace.

…

You must be wondering what is so bad about fairies and how I shouldn't even be worrying. They were just fairies, right? Oh, they could never harm anything! They're harmless little things! (_And don't even think about saying that they're not real because they bloody are, you wankers!_)

Well, if I may say, you are quite wrong. Or, at least, misunderstood. Here, let me revise your lines.

They were just fairies that were the most teasing, most sinister, most mischievous of any sort of fairy breed ever to be laid eyes upon. They wouldn't harm another being that wasn't a fairy if provoked. They only _seem_ like harmless little things, because their size is miniature, but their pride and ego were far too large to hold inside. And they are evil.

Oh so evil.

They've even fought with me a few times, gave me a few cuts or so.

Damn pests, they can be. I would bet money that they're laughing at me in my current predicament. Who wouldn't, though? Horny, thinking of America, unable to deal with older brothers/sister, bound and soaked and freezing in the bathtub. A laughing stock to anyone.

But if any of you reading this just so happen to find this funny, well…you can get used to being on four legs for the rest of your entire eternity.

So there.

* * *

There was one slight issue that I just so happened to happily have with this whole situation that it was enough to bother me.

I couldn't see them.

Now, usually, they would come out of hiding and giggle and laugh and assist me or get whatever it was they needed. But as of right now, I couldn't' see them, I was immobile to several movements.

Bloody hell. I am very unlucky, aren't I?

I tried to see if I could maybe catch a glimpse of them, if only for a quick second, just to know they're really there. These types of fairies are very beautiful and stick out anywhere: long and wavy hair of any color that is either left alone or braided straight down the back, dresses made only from long flower petals and grass, wings reaching just to the top of their heads and a clear, extremely light shade of yellow, smiles (if you're able to see that much) alluring and inviting. But once you discover their personalities, it's a whole other story. You could say they're, eh…_femme fatale._

Ugh. French. It's disgusting.

But that seems to be the best description: beautiful and charming yet dangerous and mischievous.

Aha! There they were, right behind the condiments. Little bastards. "Oi!" I called out to them. "Whot do you think you're doing?"

Luckily, there were only two of them. Once, I had been, w-well…h-having a w-w-wank (peacefully and in my own home, thank you very much) and about ten of them had popped into the room just as I neared my climax. I swear, it's almost as if they detect my sexual distress, they want to see. I hope to God that they never do that during sex.

The two fairies, exactly as I had described above, one with green hair in a braid and the other with plain white, floated out of their hideout giggling, looking at me and my predicament with amusement. I scowled at them. Brats! They have no business laughing at me! "Would you two stop laughing at me and please help me?" I asked kindly.

Or, at least, I _think_ I said it kindly.

I think I may have been a bit demanding.

…now that I think of it, I might've been a bit too harsh and used a tone that was something terrible.

…

Dammit. Now the fairy with the green hair was getting teary-eyed.

I hate today so much.

"Look, please don't cry," I said to the one weeping, who had turned around with her eyes covered and her shoulders shaking. The white-haired fairy glared at me and spoke out as loudly as she could (which wasn't very much) in her language.

And yes, fairies have their own language.

And yes, I happen to understand it, thank you very much. Wankers.

I blushed at the words that the angry one was spouting out at me. She definitely wasn't happy with me telling her sister off like that. There were some rather bad curses thrown in as well.

…

Maybe I should hold in my curses a bit more. First Sealand starts calling me a wanker and now I have a fairy calling me a no-good, British, wanking twat.

"I…I-I a-apologize, girls, I didn't _mean_ to make you upset." It's difficult to say the word s-so…s-s-s-s-sah…oh, you know, wankers! "I'm just…my brothers and sister have been more than aggravating this weekend, and I know I'm now going to be late to a World Meeting in London that I should be hosting, and…I just need to get out of here."

I don't know what it was- maybe it was pity or kindness or luck, even my head purposely banging against the bottom of the tub, but the next thing I knew, I was being helped out of my restraints and I was free. The green-haired fairy, still crying, sat on my hand after I sat up to gaze at them and held out my fingers. Oh she truly was a _femme fatale._ I bet she had a bit of mischief in her, just behind her teary eyes.

"I'm terribly s-sor…I apologize tremendously for making you cry, dearie. I don't know how I could repay you for helping me though."

The girl, still wiping her eyes cautiously, suggested if I could cook for them. Of course! The fairies loved when I cooked for them! And luckily, I had even made some pudding just last night, so I didn't have to cook and make myself later than I even was!

"Why, yes! That would be fantastic!"

She jumped up in excitement, her sister coming over to join her, and they hugged and giggled and hopped around, before whizzing up and placing a kiss on either side of my face, right on my cheeks. The white-locked fairy kicked my nose harshly before planting a peck on it. They even gingerly touched my most definitely black eye and kissed it as gently as they were able to.

"Thank you for freeing and forgiving me, girls. You know your way out, I assume? I have to prepare myself for my meeting." I watched the two fly around each other before disappearing in a small puff of smoke. Luckily they were in a good mood today. If they had been in a bad one, I wouldn't have gotten away with just a kick to the nose.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that they had most likely done something to embarrass me in some way. Didn't know what though. At least they hadn't locked the door like last time.

But they left a nice big puddle for me to slip on as soon as I put one foot out of the tub.

…

Bugger off, damn wankers. It bloody hurt.

* * *

So, about ten minutes later, after changing and throwing whatever mess had been made in the kitchen into a garbage bag that was taken out to the curb and fixing myself up (which included repairing my cracked chin with a tonic that healed wounds quicker), I was finally in my car (a blue Mini Cooper, if you would like to know) on the way to London for the World Conference.

About bloody time, I would say.

I hated being late to anything, no matter how much I didn't want to go to something. I wanted to make sure I was on time and even a bit early. But that didn't seem possible as of right now. I was most likely going to be late, which meant that Germany would get all pissy with me, which meant that everyone else was going to be in a bad mood because I was late but I believe that they would be rather glad having me there, especially America, the daft bloke, never even seeming to give a fuck about my whereabouts or how I'm doing or where I am or the like.

…

The drive from Liverpool to London was about four hours. Right now, at that moment, it was about eight o' clock, which would make me slightly late for the meeting. I could have taken public transit, but I didn't have enough time to get to the station nor was I able to get there in time to make the train time I wanted. So here I saw, trying to drown myself in endless blasts of the Rolling Stones and Queen and the Sex Pistols- and the Who. Anything to distract me from the fact that I was going to be terribly late. Besides my Eurovision songs. (**1**) We all know those are crap because no one knows good music. I'm better than France, at least. So bugger off.

So, here I am. Blasting music. Trying to assure myself that I will be on time for this meeting, even though I know that there is no way in hell I'm going to make it. By now, however, about two hours had passed, it looked like I would be only slightly late, which wasn't as bad as I had thought. However…some idiot in front of me had to abruptly stop right in front of me.

"Bollocks-" _Brake_.

…

Wankers! Why the bloody hell would you stop in the middle of the street?

"The bloody fuck is this…" Just what the bleeding hell is happening?! These muppets don't know what they're doing, do they?! Have they even driven before?! They don't even know where I have to be!

_No…_ A glance at the clock in my car told me that although a minute had passed, I was getting closer and closer to being extremely late. I had another hour and a half to make to get to the World Conference. I was running out of time, no matter how minimal it might have been. The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland was never late under any circumstances.

At first, I decided to just sit and wait, turning my music down to a minimal and allowing my mind to dive into my own thoughts. How long will I be here; when the bloody hell are we going to start moving again; who do I have to go pirate on; whoever is making me late is going to have to pay; what's the best way to avoid America. You know, that sort of stuff. I actually peeked out of the window and looked ahead to see what was happening, and all I could see was an accident- as I thought- with a police car nearby, just where the separation of the road stopped and you could cross over to the opposite lane. One car seemed to have crossed over, and another was off to the side, obviously the one that had crashed into the other. An officer was chatting to two people: one that I figured was the victim, and the other who was no other than America, Alfred F. Jones.

…

Bollocks.

"No…"

This can't be happening.

"No, no, no, no!" I let my head fall to the steering wheel in despair. I had the best plan today: avoid America at all costs, no matter what. But I don't have luck or fate or anything of the sort. I have the complete opposite, in fact.

It's not that I didn't want to see him. I made it clear enough that I have tremendous feelings for him. But the thing is…I just wasn't quite ready to speak to him just yet. I didn't know what to say to him, how to respond to him. Usually, I know just what to say and how to say it and keep my feelings for him covered with cynicism. But if I were to talk to him right now (I mean, come on, start a meeting without the United States? That's practically blasphemy, dolts)…I don't know what would happen.

I wasn't going to do anything, though. I don't care! It's _his_ fault for thinking that _everyone_ drives on the right side of the street. Dumb wanker.

…

I-It's a bit endearing as well, though.

B-b-but! Th-that doesn't mean that I-I'll do _everything_ for him! No fucking way!

…

But still…it's America. And even though he can be a goddamn wanker sometimes, he's still extremely dear to me…

…

In that way…

…

…

…

Alright, alright. That's it. I won't fight myself anymore.

I'll do it.

* * *

So, about five minutes later, I was able to finally get out of my car and stride over to the American idiot that I had fallen in love with so long ago. America was gesturing toward his (most likely rented) car, and loudly trying to convince the officer he wasn't to blame.

"Dude, it's not my fault, I was driving on the right side of the road! That's why we're on the _right_ side, because we're _right_ and American, dude!" Alfred exclaimed loudly. Even from that distance in that tone, his voice was heavenly.

"Excuse me, but it's _you_ daft Americans who are wrong, you git!" The victim whose car had collided with America's snapped. I flinched; did I have to beat two dumb arses today? No one can call America a git but me, twits!

"No way, are you serious? Dude, without the Americans, you dudes would be dead!"

"Are you fucking _dumb?!_ It was the United Bloody Kingdom that got you dumb arses into this world! Don't you remember the Revolutionary War?!"

…

Yeah, I was gonna have to murder the bloke.

"Excuse me," I snapped- no, more growled- no, I fucking _snarled _at them when I was closer. "But can I please know just whot exactly is the problem?"

Instantly, Alfred's eyes- which were extremely angry…too angry, in fact- brightened upon seeing me, and he lunged himself on top of me, knocking me back a few paces. Bloody heavy lug of a nation.

"Artie!" He practically hollered into my ear, rocking us back and forth. My face burst brightly into a scarlet shade, but then I pushed him off away from me. He was barely discouraged.

…

Endearing git.

"Dude, you gotta tell them this is not my fault and that I always forget to drive on the left side of the road which is really the _wrong_ side of the road because it's not the right side even though I should be on the _right_ side of the road because it's on the _right _side and it's _right_ but they think I meant to do it and I wanted to kill someone and I can't convince them because they're British and stubborn just like you and-"

"Alfred," I silenced him with a glare. He blinked owlishly at me, for once actually _waiting _for me to speak. "I'll tell them. Go wait in my car."

He nodded vigorously and climbed back into the slightly damaged Ford (my eyes certainly not wavering over to that perfectly shaped rump, oh God how I wanted to grab some of it) to retrieve his stuff. I looked up at the officer, who was taking notes from the lady speaking to him. I cleared my throat to grab their attention, succeeding, and gave them that Kirkland glare that only a well-trained, hating pirate could muster.

I think if they could, they might have pissed themselves.

"If you don't mind, I'll be taking the boy here with me and will pay for any damage done here," I stated smoothly. But then I looked at the woman, who looked terrified to even breathe the same air as I do. Serves her right, the twit. "And might I say _further_ on, that no one should be telling who would be here without whom, and no one should be treating him," I pointed my thumb at Alfred, who now stood next to me holding his belongings in his arms, "different from anyone else. And furthermore, _madam_, if you are to ever call the lad a git again, I will personally teach you what it's like to be part of the British Empire." I held up my hand in the V sign, basically telling her to fuck off in the languae of the Britons. "See you in hell, ma'am. And good day to you, officer." I smiled at both, grabbed Alfred's hand, and started to walk away.

Meanwhile…

"Yeah! Exactly! The British fucking Empire! Mhm! Can't beat that, asshole! Can you mess with this Grade-A American beef? Nope! Don't think you can, beyotch! Yeah! Try to! Try it! Try! Ya can't! Just try to- _owww-uh!_"

"Shut up," I hissed, shoving him into the car door. He stumbled forward and frowned, mumbling something about being too rough with the tender skin of a hero. I walked around to the other side of my car, got in, and as soon as I was, I pulled on his tie and tugged it in front of him, bringing his neck and head forward and onto the dashboard.

"You dumbass, shit-eating twat!" I glowered at him as he cried out with an "Ow!" and rubbed his forehead and neck. "Whot the bloody fuck do you think you are doing here?!

"Dude, calm down! My plane stopped at Liverpool for gas and I thought we were in London so I got off but I was supposed to get into Heathrow! Relax, dude!" He returned an annoyed glare, rubbing where I had pulled. "You screwed up my tie, dude. Thanks…"

"You are such a git," I mumbled, and couldn't help but shake my head. "I can't believe you would do something so stupid as to getting off at the wrong stop!"

"Well, Liverpool and London sound the same!"

"No they don't Alfred." I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him. Sometimes he was as daft as Spain.

"Uhh, yeah they do! They both begin with an L! Like loser, which is like you!"

"If you want, I can return you to the officer and have him deal with you!" I snapped at him, and he pouted, sitting back into his seat. "Exactly. Now shut up and be patient. This might take a while thanks to your idiocy."

This time, America rolled his eyes at me and scoffed, turning his head to look outside. "Ew…the skies look so gross. Hope it doesn't rain…"

"It always does, thanks to you."

I had been hoping that last line hadn't been heard at all. I was hoping Alfred would be daft, as always, and just think nothing of it and me just mumbling to myself. But sometimes, he had those moments where he had the ears of his national symbol.

"I didn't want to be your little brother anymore."

"I know, America." I stopped him before he could go on any further. "You wanted to be your own nation. I don't need to hear it again."

…

The two of us- as Alfred and Arthur- were not on good terms. I was still lonely stubborn, and he was still ignorant and obnoxious about it. We both were. Whenever the two of us are alone and one of us brings it up, the other always goes into a sort of depression, and every time Alfred gets so strange and…almost sincere towards me, almost as if he wants to confess something. Something like…like his actual feelings…

…

When Alfred had proposed the fact that he would be leaving me and becoming independent, as well as his own nation, I tried to accept it. But I couldn't think of my precious America leaving me, out in the world alone, able to be harmed by Spain or Frog or other nations. So I taxed anything I could. And every time I did, he went against it. He dumped tea in the Boston Harbor, he boycotted everything I had given him…he even treated my men like pigs.

But…what no one else knows is that…there's still something between us that happened.

One day, a few days before Lexington and Concord, when I was preparing some tea, Alfred had come through the back door of the house we had owned. It was a bit strange, since usually he entered from the front and hardly the back unless he had been working in the town again, but this time… This time was certainly different. Instead of a smile, there was a frown on his face. By that time, it was usual to see him like that when he was around me; but this one had something terrible hidden behind it.

I didn't remember much after that. I can barely recall having a bayonet stuffed inside of me repeatedly all over my torso and abdomen, I didn't know who the tears that had fallen onto me belonged to, before I passed out and woke up on my bed. I ached all over my body, I felt extremely exhausted, and all I could recollect from the incident was the saddest part of the sky inside his eyes, looking down at me in tears and sorrow and misery and—

The traffic in front of us started to go again, and I moved forward steadily. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see America, mouth open, about to question my behavior, but then it closed and he looked away to the side of the road. I thought I saw a single water mark on his face, but I think it was just a trick of the light. Then again, there was no light out, and I'm sure he would have found one on mine as well.

The rest of the car ride was in silence.

* * *

"What happened to your eye?"

It was nearly eleven when America asked the question and broke the silence that had been in the car. We were now thirty minutes late to the meeting, sadly, which meant that I was not only going to get sneers for being late, but sneers for who was coming in with me.

"Just an accident with my sister," I replied, glancing at him. His eyes were trained on my face, the black eye in particular, and it made me a bit uneasy. I could tell his hero side was kicking in and he wanted to do something about it, and he looked almost…worried. "When I was getting ready to leave, she bumped into me and my eye slammed into the corner of a table."

"That can't be from a table, England." I stopped the car when we came to a red light- _just a few more blocks, dammit, come on!_- and he gingerly reached over and touched my bruise. I slapped his hand away, not because it didn't hurt (although it was throbbing a bit) but because I was still in that melancholy state and didn't want contact with him anymore, for the rest of the day.

"Don't touch me," I growled, and glared at the traffic light. Damn light. Not changing the light for me. I hate you, traffic light. I hope to see you in Hell, damn thing.

"England, do your siblings abuse you?"

I gritted my teeth taught together. "I don't want to talk about it."

"England, answer me for reals now."

"I'm not giving you an answer to that question." _Damn light, just go green already!_

"C'mon, England, be serious now."

_Be serious now?_ Is he seriously kidding me? _I _have to be serious?! This is the same boy who used to tackle buffalo to the ground head-on to practice his strength; who used to prank his little brother when he thought I wasn't looking; who had spit pieces of paper at probably every nation in a World Conference with a McDonald's straw; who was always so goofy and loving to live life as it was a a free spirit with no boundaries; who forced me more and more to hold in my laughs whenever he said something that was amusing. And yet he wanted _me_ to be serious.

…

Well, that was something new.

I gave him a glower that I knew would frighten him into silence. He only blinked owlishly at me, and looked like he was waiting for me to speak. "Look, you annoying git," I started off quietly. "I don't want to have to say it, but if I have to, I will. I don't need some two-hundred-and-thirty-six-year-old twat telling me that I should be serious, when he himself acts like a fourteen-year-old brat on every occasion. So if you don't mind, get your head out of your arse and maybe you'll learn a new thing or two, you daft dolt!"

The light turned green, and I instantly started to drive again, ignoring the stare that I was given and the pull in my heart. I knew what he was thinking. I knew exactly what it was. I didn't want to know, and it destroyed me every time it came up. But what he doesn't know is that I didn't want this, I just wanted to have him and keep him as mine and no one else's but…he doesn't want that, I'm sure. And I've probably made it worse by accidentally mentioning that reference.

"Fourteen was when I first told you I was gaining my independence."

I tried not to look over at him, but I could already tell he was hurt. And I wouldn't doubt that he was highly offended and angry with me. Who wouldn't be, in his place? "I didn't mean to put it in that way," I responded, taking a few seconds to stare into his unhappy blue eyes- _holy shit that stare could break a stone heart, why does he have to be so depressing_- before looking back to the road. "I wanted to prove a point. You were being hypocritical, telling me to be serious, when you yourself are not known for that."

I'll be honest, a bit of realization passed over me at that moment. America was acting off and strange since he had gotten in my car. He wasn't laughing or making jokes about my eyebrows or my cooking or my taste in music- which he couldn't deny that he loved half of the bands I had produced- and he wasn't loud or boisterous or the like. In fact, he was actually more like his brother besides the volume level. I was almost taken aback that Alfred would act so…strange. And I could only blame myself.

"Why do you have that look?"

I glanced over at him, a bit out of shock for hearing him break the silence. "Whot do you mean?"

"You have this expression on your face like you're mad at me."

I rolled my eyes. "It's called being apathetic, git. Something that you obviously don't know about."

I could see his eyes narrowing and a scowl rise on his features. Yes, he was certainly off today. "If you have a problem with me, you should just say so instead of hiding it. I can't read the mood as it is, even though I can't find that book. Whatever the problem is with you, just come out and say it."

"America, if I had a problem with you, I wouldn't have let you in my car." Honestly. He could be such a downright moron sometimes.

"Well then why the hell do you have that look on your face like you're annoyed?"

"I don't know whot you're talking about."

"Yes you do, don't even lie!"

I whipped my head around to face him as I pulled into the parking lot of the building where the World Conference was currently being held. "Are you calling me a liar?"

America's eyes were steely cold, and I shivered slightly from his glare. "Yes, I'm calling you a liar."

"You damn git!" I wasn't even in a parking spot when I stopped the car, pulled the brake, and lunged at him. He grabbed my arms and tried to hold me back, but I was already pulling him by his hair so that he could look at me. "I could have been an arsehole and left you there, waiting for someone to take mercy on your soul and give you a ride. Honestly, though? I was being hospitable, and you should be thankful that I was late to save you from that officer instead of calling me a liar."

His gaze didn't waver once from mine, and I could see a cold, hard determination in his eyes. I hadn't seen that look aimed at me since that time. "Hospitable people don't stare at other people with cold eyes, England. If you seriously think you were being nice, think again, because that was the rudest thing I have ever seen you do." He pushed me away from him, back into my seat with my legs hanging over into his, and he gathered his things from the floor of my car. "Sometimes, England, I wonder why I gained independence from someone like you. But then I remember why: because you're nothing but a mean, lonely, cranky, old country who lives too much in the past and wishes for the things that he can no longer have."

And with those words, he slammed my car door- nearly sending it off its hinges- and made his way to the door of the building.

…

I was very astonished, to say the least, over his words and performance. There was a bitter something lodged into my heart that I wanted to get away from. I really truly wished that I could do something- anything- to get rid of it, but I knew that it would stay there for a while. America thought that I hated him, and I knew that he hated me back. And yet all I wanted was to avoid him so that I could think about how to put my plan into motion to gain his heart.

And this was not what I wanted, or where I wanted to be, at all.

**(1): No joke; lately, for Eurovision (a European song contest) the UK is always down on the bottom. The ones who choose to put them in the competition must be a bit tone deaf, because, well, no offense, but their songs, eh...they suck, to put it that way XD And France has actually had some pretty good songs! Well, to me at least- this year and 2010 were kickass! :D**


	4. Manage a Sane World Meeting: Failed

**I own nothing but the plot, la di da, all characters go to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**I have school, ahaha -_-**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

Chapter 3:

Manage a Sane World Meeting: Failed

…

I have to admit.

I did not expect anything of that to happen.

…

I want America to love me. I really do. I don't want to be hated by him anymore. But…we're both too stubborn _not_ to fight. The two of us are too alike and too similar to actually work. We can't handle each other at all, sadly.

And yet…

And yet there's something that tells me that that doesn't matter at all. That I should be extremely grateful I have a (demented form of a) relationship with him. That I should, I don't know…actually continue on with my plan.

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

No.

I _would_ be doing that. I _did_ relax after the fight and cool down. I _did_ set my head against the steering wheel and calm myself. I _will _continue on with my (somewhat perfect) plan to win America.

But I have a goddamn World Meeting that I should have attended to start an hour ago.

How much time went by exactly?!

* * *

The next minute and a half was a literal mad dash to guide my car into a parking space, grab my belongings, jump out of the car, stumble to the front entrance of the building, sign in so that they knew who I was, rush up five flights of stairs, sign myself in to the security guards to gain entrance to our hall (we always had a rather private room so that no one else would bother or be bothered by us), and then barge into the meeting area. As soon as I had, wherever there had been sound in the room had died down in a second.

…

Well. This is quite awkward.

"Britain," Germany looked over at me with piercingly cold eyes. Italy peeked over his shoulder, gripping onto his arm tightly. "I assume you have a good reason for being over an hour late."

It was so obvious that Germany was angry, even someone daft and dozy like…like _Spain_ could tell he was. He always acted calm before blowing up in anger. Most Europeans were used to it- and by most Europeans, I mean the ones who always caused trouble, France, Spain, and Gilbert. And apparently Italy as well. Although we had a bit of a messy history, specifically in the last century, I will say, that couple- Germany and Italy- was rather sweet-looking. They say that they had been dating for about seventy years now. How they survived, when they are total opposites, I'll always wonder. But they are very sweet with each other, or so I had heard. I wish I was like that with someone specific.

America, in case you didn't know.

'France, right Iggy? *winkwink* *ohohohon*'

No, wankers. If you thought that, kindly fuck the fuck off.

Thank you.

"I had an issue with my sister," I admitted, dropping my belongings off at the host's podium in the front of the room. I could tell everyone was staring at my black eye. It was still a bit obvious, at least for me, that it was there, so I could tell everyone else had noticed.

"Mm…I zink you might 'ave gotten into a lover's quarrel wiz your _petit ami américain_ (**1**), _oui_?"

Frog.

I glared over at him with malice. Of course he would believe that. America and I were never in a perfect relationship, ever since he was a child and I was called back continuously to my homeland. Yes, we had the 'Special Relationship', but even then there was nothing special about that. Churchill called it that because, well…he saw how much I loved Alfred, and how much I had to hide, and like every government official he knew a lot about his country. He was always telling me to pursue something with Alfred, even if it's poor as of right now, always saying how our relationship was so special and that we shouldn't let it go to waste. And I suppose…I suppose I really did ignore his words. Look where I am now.

"No, I did not have a fight with him," I sneered, at the moment not wanting to even have him mentioned. I could see him, America, out of the corner of my eye, just a few seats down from France, my usual spot next to him taken by Japan.

Well. He forgot that quickly.

"Before you two vant to start somezing," Germany intervened, knowing exactly where we were going with this, "can ve please get za meeting over viz?"

I grimaced but nodded, looking over at Frog. He shrugged his shoulders with a small smirk, but was otherwise unfazed by all of this. Of course he would.

So, I did what was normal for the beginning of a host.

First:

"Germany."

"_Ja._"

"North Italy."

"_Sì~!_"

"Spain."

"_Sí~._"

"South Italy."

"_Sì, stronzo._"

"Twatface. Japan."

"_Hai._"

"China."

"_Shì._"

"Rus-"

"The hero's here!"

"…"

"Just thought you wanted to know."

"…right. Because no one can hear your big mouth from across the room."

"Really? Aw, I should be louder than."

"No, no, your volume is just fine. Please don't get any louder."

"Bu-"

"No."

"…"

"Russia."

"_Da~_"

"Frog."

"_Rosbif~._"

"Go to hell and stay there. Cana…I don't know who this is. Cana…da? Wait, hold on, Canada, I'm sorry."

"Who?"

"Zat's your _frère_, _imbécile!_"

"Oh yeah."

"Is Canada here or not, gits?"

"Um, yes, _oui_."

"Oh, there you are. My apologies."

"And yet 'e is a part of your commonwealz. _Mathieu, amour,_ you should break away from zat. Be a part of mine. We could make love whenever we like, not 'ave to worry about ze pair of eyebrows over zere."

"Are you asking for a kick to the face, frog?"

"Francis, don't start a fight here, _s'il vous pla-_ah!"

"Ew, France, stop groping my brother's ass!"

"Can I please continue with this, gits?!"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Thank you."

All bloody mad, I tell you.

* * *

"So, now that that's done, to get started, first, we have to discuss a few extremely important points that must be made, most importantly a debt increase from certain nations…" I glanced over at the four I was referencing to. Every meeting, even the ones for the European Union, we had to discuss the increase of the debts before we got anything else done. Although it was simple- just see how certain nations were handling his or her debt issues- it was quite a bother. "Greece?"

"Sleeping," someone called back to me. Of course. Nothing new.

"Okay…Spain?"

Spain, who was sitting next to Frog, sneezed into the crook of his jacket. He looked over at the other nations and laughed in embarrassed. "Ah, still working on that," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

I hate the football-loving, dozy twat and his personal alliance with the Frog, but I pity him for all the shit he's had to go through. Poor bastard.

Before I could even say the next name, Italy was already raising his hand and nearly jumping out of his seat.

"Yes, Italy," I looked at him in all seriousness. His hands moved about in several motions in front of him. No wonder I was caught so easily during the Second World War by Germany. It's bloody hard to mimic an Italian.

"Um, do Romano and I count asa being in debt evena with Luddie helping us?" He wondered. Germany rubbed his eyes in exaggeration. Looks like we both have loves that drive us crazy. At least his loved him unconditionally.

I looked at him with the most neutral face I could manage. "Yes." Honestly, what kind of a question was that?

"Oh." Italy frowned and fumbled with his pencil and paper before concentrating on his doodling again.

"Ve're vorking on zat," Germany answered. His lover nodded.

"Ia makea the pasta every night and Germany helps me pay off the tremendous debt so that I won't be sick anymore and we can make love more!"

"Feliciano!"

"Correction, _stronzo_: _you_ two are working on that," Romano added. "I'ma not having any part of that fucking semen mess."

"Oh, but Lovino, you said that you would work with Ludwig as long as we were weren't so loud at ni-"

Germany covered his mouth again, this time quicker than before. Too bad everyone already had the point figured out.

"Oh~ so you two are razer noisy at night, _oui_?" Frog smirked. Prussia (no one knows why he even comes to the meeting when he's not a nation anymore) laughed.

"_Ja,_ zey really know how to have fun," he said. "Especially vhen West brings out za kinky shit-"

"_Bruder!_"

"Ohohon~ I'd party wiz you two~!"

"Francis…"

"_Mathieu, cher,_ you can come too if you would like! You didn't mind restraints as much as I zought you would~!"

"Francis! That's private!"

"Ew, dude, stop having sex with my brother!"

"You don't see 'im most of ze time. Besides, we are lovers, not just friendly _amis._ We make love, not sex. It is quite different."

"_Hahaha!_ I don't give a crap, dude, stay away from Mattie!"

"Please don't fight."

"Ooh, ooh! Can Big Brother France come and play with us one day, Luddie?"

"_Nein!_"

This meeting was definitely not going to be sane.

* * *

So, after that minor catastrophe, I was somehow (with Germany's assistance) able to get the focus back on the discussion paper in front of me. The outline for today seemed simple enough: thinking of ways helping lower our personal debt and the ones we have to others, and helping the environment by less production of cars were the main issues that had to be covered. And probably the only topics we'll cover.

As usual.

"Anyway, after that catastrophe, next with the debt issue…" I glanced up at him without moving my head, watching his movement and wondering just how he was so successful with his laziness and ridiculous behavior, "America."

"Huh?" The muffled response came, America with his mouth stuffed of hamburger.

"You owe money to more than half of the countries in this room, as well as your personal debt. How are you fairing with paying that off?" Especially to China, Japan and I, he owed us large sums of money. Mine wasn't as bad as China's, but we were the top three he owed. Damn bloody wanker.

America chewed on his crapburger (because it's definitely not a hamburger; more like cardiac-arrest-burger), humming in thought. "We'w," he began with a full mouth. "I 'ad a mo'ee eeo'h…bu ow I do'."

"Proper English, please." I rolled my eyes. Everyone else seemed just as disturbed from his rudeness.

He laughed as he swallowed what was in his mouth, and grinned wide. I could already tell his answer, just by looking at his face. "I had the money before, but now I don't."

I shut my eyes as a majority of the nations (specifically the ones he owed money to) started to stand and protest. Japan seemed upset, but didn't say anything, even though he was the second nation that had a large debt with Alfred, just above me. America had about…oh, I would say…four hundred and sixty billion American dollars; that was a good rough estimation. In pounds, though, it was about three hundred billion, four hundred seventy-eight million, three hundred thousand pounds. 311,478,300,000, if you want it as a numeral.

Basically, everyone was getting impatient that he had barely started to give back to us. It was aggravating. How did I even raise this child? He used to be so pure and innocent, but he wanted things that seemed impossible and he went for them and achieved it. And I'm proud that he's doing well, I am, I didn't think he'd get this far. But what he's doing nowadays, with his recession and excessive greediness for everything up-to-date, I don't even know how he was able to get that.

…

Enough of that kind of talk.

"America," I gritted my teeth, running my fingers over my eyes in aggravation, trying so desperately to keep my mind off of him. "We have gone over this before. Why do you not have the bloody money?"

The other nations quieted down, anger still shown on their features. America fiddled with the wrapper of another burger, a sheepish smile on his face. "Well…remember that one time a few years ago with the giant thing?"

"Do not start with any of your half-brain stories and just tell us why you don't have the money!"

…

I wasn't that harsh, was I?

America pouted at me childishly (and cutely, god dammit, there I said it, now bugger off). "I hope you all know that I have a bigger debt to my people than I do to all of you."

"But you been saying you pay us off first and you lie aru!" Yao added.

"Well it's hard when you're the only superpower and have all of these people to pay back!"

"You've had time to gather the money, America!" I snapped. "We've been through this, you damn muppet, you can't just make promises to nations and not live up to them!"

"Well, you still owe _me _64 billion from World War One, England, and I haven't seen any talk or green of that!"

The room was quiet.

It was obvious the room was shocked America had said that.

Even _America_ looked shocked that he had said that.

I, however…

I was furious.

* * *

I hate to say it, but I think America might have gotten the ability to say what's on his mind before thinking it over, from me.

…

Maybe.

…

Most definitely.

Are you happy, gits?

But whether or not he got that from me or it's just in his natural genes, I was…well, there's not really to explain how I was feeling at that very moment. The only way you could put it into words was, well…what I said to him.

"I still owe you money."

America blinked. Oh yes, he definitely knew he had said the wrong thing. He was about to pay for it, big time.

"I…still owe…you money…" I was being surprisingly calm for someone who had just been insulted.

I could tell Alfred was afraid for his life. Good. He should be. "Uh-"

"I hope you know that I am not the only one who owes you money from that war!"

No…never mind, I was not calm at all. I came around from the pedestal, jumped on the table, and sauntered- _stomped_- my way in front of him, meanwhile spewing a little bit of my anger with each step.

"Nearly every country in that war that you helped still owes you money, you git! The only one able to pay you off in time was Finland, and lucky for him because he doesn't have to suffer from your little pity party that you throw yourself whenever something doesn't go your way and you have to complain that you have so much debt!"

"Dude, just calm down-"

"_I will not calm down!_" By this time his necktie was in my grasp and I pulled him up to eye level. He gave a quiet yelp in surprise. "_Every single damn meeting we have to discuss debt, and every single damn meeting we have to hear how much __you__ haven't paid off to anyone and everyone, or hear how it's so stressful for you to be a superpower! Well guess what, muppet!_"

America was silent and wide-eyed.

"_Nobody gives two shits about you because we have to worry about how we're all going to pay off __our__ people! You're not the only one suffering from debt, America! You may be the single most powerful nation on the planet, but that doesn't mean that the world revolves around you! Grow up and open your eyes to the rest of the world!_" I slammed his head against the table and walked back to the pedestal, ignoring his groans of pain.

Good.

I grabbed my papers roughly when I arrived back to my place at the front of the room, and glared at the others. America was holding his hand under his nose, using a napkin to clear the blood from his nose.

Good.

Bastard child.

"Next."

* * *

The meeting went by somewhat smoothly. Germany and I were surprisingly working together to try and get the first half of this meeting under way. I was a bit shocked; then again, no one else was cooperating.

First, after my outburst, we had discussed ways to reduce the debts of our nations. But that had turned into an argument when America had said that he refused to pay back China until he returned to democracy. China, however, had gone back and said that he couldn't do that because no matter how many times he tried to talk to the officials (Yao hated his government almost as much as I detested the Frog, and that itself was giant), they refused to listen to him. That in itself had turned into a fight between them, along with Russia who had gotten in when Yao had said his government was all because of Russia, which was most likely true.

That went on for a good ten minutes, but then finally ended with me throwing my shoe at them and ordering them to shut up. Thank God it worked.

Next, came on the discussion of reducing the use of cars to help the environment more. This time, with Japan and Germany thankfully having the information and giving their presentations on energy-saving cars, we were able to have a good and somewhat peaceful debate on this.

However…

"I can't just stop using your cars- I mean, all automobiles, dudes!" America exclaimed, holding his large drink to his nose to "stop the pain". "I mean, yeah, the environment is screwy and that's mostly thanks to me, but still! I can't just stop all production of my cars, I'm one of the most populated nations!"

"You no have over one billion people in nation aru!" China called out from across the room.

"But still, I have a hell of a lot of people! Like, I'm number three! Or four, I forget."

"Look, you two," I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "We're only asking for a decrease for the cars who do not have the same built as hybrid cars. Everyone understands you both have large populations, but all we need is a decrease in production, or an increase in energy-efficient automobiles."

"I have a Dodge Avenger that does awesome on gas!"

"Wonderful. Make more cars like that, then."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because that's a lotta work."

"Are you asking for another face-plant into the desk?!"

"No."

"Then shut up or cooperate properly, git!"

America frowned, but a slightly loud rumble disturbed us from the issue at hand to the Italian doodling. Italy looked up to see everyone looking at him, and laughed sheepishly.

"_Mi dispiace,_ I'ma so hungry…," he blushed.

I looked over at the clock; only two and a half hours into the meeting, and already we were restless. And yet a break right now wouldn't hurt us. "Well…I suppose we could stop for a bit."

"_Grazie_, Mister Britain sir!" Italy grinned, jumping up and hugging me before taking his lover's and pulling him out the door and down the hall. "_Andiamo!_"

Everyone else gathered their stuff with general chit-chat between one another, with the meeting dismissed for now, and I looked over out of the corner of my eye to see America leaving his belongings at his place as he pushed his way, towards me, through the small crowd that had gathered. I left my own possessions where I would be, and grabbed Yao on my way out the door.

"Arthur, what you-"

"Look ahead, don't look behind you," I ordered. China looked behind us at the closing doors.

"What happening aru? I talking to Kiku!"

"Well, now you're not."

"But-"

"This is important."

"Kiku more important aru!"

"Yao, this is about America and I." China was the only one who knew that I was in love with Alfred. And now I had to talk to him about my plan to capture that American idiot's heart.

Yao looked at me in silence for a moment before nodding with a scowl. "Fine. But I promise Kiku, so no trick."

* * *

China and I both got an order of his cuisine from a small Chinese restaurant near the building, which consisted of plain rice, some chicken, two shrimp and vegetable eggrolls- one for each of us- and some green tea we had brought along. Thankfully, we understood each other's drink preferences, so there was no arguing about whose drink was better (though we all know that tea outweighs coffee by far, wankers).

"So, what happen this time aru?" He asked me when we took a spot by the window, away from the crowds and chitchat of the place. It was very simple yet ornate with the Oriental decorations of different characters and drawings about the place. Its dining room was also large and often crowded with people, so talking about something private quietly could happen if you were skilled enough like we were.

"Well, first, I was driving from Liverpool after visiting my siblings," I mused, trying not to make myself look like a fool while using chopsticks. Damn things. Years of having to use them and I still can't master them correctly. I could see China's smirk of amusement as he assisted me.

"That where you get black eye from."

Fuck it, I'm using a fork. "My sister is very sensitive when it comes to the use of her slang."

He laughed. "Your family still crazy aru."

"They've become crazier, I'm afraid."

"But why you late? Did they throw you in lake again aru?"

For some reason, one of Yao's favorite memories of the two of us was during my time over there, when I ruled a majority of his land. I'm not going to go over the first part, but basically my brothers chased me around the nearby village and tossed me into the Yellow River. China had found it hilarious. Still does, the bastard.

I glared at him for his response. He only chuckled behind the chicken he put inside his mouth. That sentence sounded so awkward to write; I'm here to tell you about my love life with America, not if we're eating or not. Bloody embarrassment.

"William threw me in a cold shower and tied me to the faucet, before sticking a…an egg-shaped vibration device up my arsehole."

White rice flew across the table from Yao as he burst into laughs. Bastard! First, this was a nice suit I had on. It was also new, so that got me pissed because now it has pieces of rice that are going to be annoying as hell to get off. Second, the bastard was laughing at _me_! _Me!_ And having a vibrator shoved up one's arse is _not_ funny, even though it was enjoyable because I thought of America while rutting against a tub so shut it!

"It's not funny, arsehole! It made me later than I was going to be!"

"The way you said it," he gasped for air, leaning over the side of the chair with his hands across his stomach. "You speak so weird aru!"

"Says the man who can't say a sentence properly or use pronouns!"

After Yao was able to calm down and clean up the mess from his mouth (again, with the awkwardness), we finally got back to the topic. I told Yao everything: America being dumb enough to get off at the wrong stop when his plane was refueling, him driving on the wrong side of the street, us having an argument, the words that we shared with each other, and then him saying that I was just as mean, lonely, cranky, old country who lives too much in the past and wishes for the things that he can no longer have.

…

The words wouldn't have hurt me as much as they do if they hadn't come from him…

Yao was silent, quietly nibbling on his food. Some shrimp and vegetables had fallen from his eggroll, and he swirled them around slowly in the light amount of soy sauce that was gathered on his plate. He had that look of his that only he could master, one that showed that he wasn't thinking of right now, but rather something else. Specifically, the events I had just told him.

"I so sorry aru," he broke the silence, his free hand stretching over to hold onto mine. I took it and gave it a gentle squeeze. I was thankful he forgives so easily and is able to look at me as a friend instead of an enemy.

I smiled weakly at him. "Thank you, dear friend."

He returned the gestured. I could tell what he was thinking; he hoped that Alfred and I could be like he and Kiku. After the Second World War, when China's government made a deal with Russia's and they allied together, Yao was taken from his home to Ivan's for years until the Sino-Soviet Split. As soon as he was able to get away from Russia, instead of heading for Beijing, he went to Tokyo instead. He met up with Japan, talked for a bit, practically put his heart out in front of him and made love with Kiku under the Japanese cherry blossom trees in his garden. Yao said it was wonderful, to finally have sex but have it out of love. China had always been used sexually: first France and I would take turns, then Russia got involved, Nanking and Japan occurred in the Second World War, Russia most likely again (out of force though; everyone knew Yao and Ivan had been and still are on shaky terms with one another), and then finally, he finds it in himself to forgive Kiku and love him again and make love with him properly. It's miraculous, their story. I'm proud that they've managed to be together for this many years. I know I haven't been able to do the same with Alfred.

I drew myself out of the melancholy state. "Some good did come out of all this," I remembered, one hand going through my jacket pocket.

Funny.

Not there.

Maybe the other.

"Just last night I decided to give catching America's attention a try." Not in there either.

Yao's thin eyebrows arched up. "How you do that aru?"

"Simple;" god fucking dammit, where's that paper?! "I wrote down a number of suggestions to try out and try to show him through actions that I love him." I remember taking it with me from Liverpool…I didn't leave there, I took it from my brother and switched it to my other trousers pockets when I changed clothes.

"You wrote down suggestions to try and catch him?"

"Yes, and if I can just…find it…" God damn fucking bloody shithead bastards goddamn fucking twathead arseholes! Where the bloody fucking hell is it?!

"You no have it? aru"

"No, I don't." Oh no.

"It at Liverpool? You leave it there maybe aru?"

"No, no, I remember my brother Charlie giving it to me before he left." It couldn't be.

"It here in London?"

"Yes, but I don't know where. It couldn't have gone far."

"It in briefcase aru?"

Oh.

"Oh no."

"_Shénme?_" (**2**)

"I think it's back in my briefcase."

"But…that good aru."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Why aru?"

"I didn't close my briefcase."

…

I practically threw my chair down and burst out the door, Yao following close behind me. We both knew what would happen if anyone got in there and saw that paper. My life would practically be ruined. Ruined forever all because of my half-ass mistake and it would all turn to hell.

The two of us- China and I- dashed up the stairs, dodging people and nations the best that we could before finally reaching our floor and bursting through the doors. We pushed- no, we _shoved_- well, Yao is nicer than that, so really I did the pushing/shoving-

…

_I_ shoved my way through the other countries, Yao following behind me and apologizing profusely for my actions. I couldn't care at the moment. The only thing I was focused on was that conference room.

That conference room that seemed too far away.

That conference room that was hopefully undisturbed since I had last been there.

That conference room that hopefully had what I needed.

I threw the door open.

I jumped onto the table.

I ran across the table.

I leapt off the table.

I grabbed the front of the pedestal.

I spun around behind it.

I looked inside my briefcase.

I threw papers every which way.

Yao stood beside me, out of breath.

I sank to the ground.

I wrapped my arms around myself.

I sobbed openly.

I didn't care.

It was gone.

My paper was gone.

Gone, gone, gone.

No longer there.

Absent.

Not present.

Just like my hope.

Gone.

**Translations:**

**(1):** _petit ami américain_ (French) American boyfriend

**(2)**: _Shénme? _(Mandarin) What?


	5. Survive Meeting to Mourn: Success

**Ciao again :) Definitely a longer updated than I intended, but shool and my own exhaustion decided "LOL NOPE" on writing. Plus I was stuck for a bit at one certain part -_- But now I'm better! :D And off to sleep soshecanwritemoreHetalia9/11USUKangst HAHAHA wut? XD**

**I own nothing but the plot, the Yorkies (though not in real life), personified personality of London and other capitals, and something else XD So, as usual, readers:**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

Chapter 4:

Survive the Meeting to Mourn: Success

It was gone.

The paper that I had put hope into to give me a way to take America for my own.

Gone.

I had had hope that that list would actually work.

But that hope was gone.

It was gone just like how the note was gone.

"I can't believe it…"

I could hear Yao searching through my stuff, more papers falling to the ground in the process. I glared at them, the best that I could through my blurry eyesight, as if they were to blame. I could hear a curse, in Mandarin, above me being said, before the rustling of gathered papers was behind me. "Come aru," China spoke in a voice that sounded too far away from me.

I shut my eyes and kneaded my palms into my eyelids, trying to overcome the feeling of overwhelming heartbreak and tears that consumed me. "It's over…"

"No it not, Arthur. You can make new one aru."

"That was the only sure way I could get America for mine, and now it's gone…"

"Arthur, you no mope. Help me clean mess up aru."

I stayed on the ground. Where was the point anyway? That list might as well have been in Alfred's hands now. Yes, I could make another one, but…I wanted the one I had made. It was childish, definitely, but to make a new one just seemed like too much work. My original plan was my first one. To have to make another on how to capture the American idiot's heart was going to be a waste if I didn't have any hope to capture.

"Get up aru! We need to find paper!"

China's arms scooped underneath mine and tried to lift me up on my feet. Even though we were both thin, I had a slimmer form than he did, muscle-wise, and stayed on the ground. There was no way Yao would be able to get me very high off the ground.

"Stop being so fat aru!"

"I'm not fat…"

"Get up!"

"No."

"_Shì!_"

"No."

"Arthur aru!"

"There's no point."

Yao groaned, letting my body fall backwards to the floor. My head banging against the floor didn't even hurt me, not when my head was swimming from too much pain. Too much pain that that lovely git had given me.

China plopped down on top of my stomach and frowned. "You get up," he ordered, poking at my cheek as if it would do something. It's strange, having someone who's usually taller than you are tower over you. Now I know how he and Japan felt. Then again, I wasn't very tall either.

I'm sorry, what was happening?

Oh, that's right. Sorry, twits, got a bit sidetracked. Bugger off, it happens.

"Yao, get off of me."

"No aru. You need to get point."

"I'm too depressed to do anything right now."

"Too bad, you no give up!"

"I'm so close to strangling you."

"I strangle you first aru!"

"We can strangle each other."

Yao's hand made contact with my head again. "You so stupid! You can make new paper aru!" He rolled his eyes at me. "And you once British Empire."

"The British Empire didn't have to deal with an annoying American git that had his heart."

"British Empire had to deal with annoyed China though aru! Why you so stupid?!"

"I'm not stupid." It was true. There's a difference between stupidity and not knowing what to do with yourself when your heart breaks because you lost all hope that you'll ever capture your crush's heart. Yao may not see it, but I certainly do.

"Yes you are aru! You can make new paper! You no need to worry aru!"

"Yao-"

"No, I talking, you quiet!"

Ugh. This shit is starting to get tiresome. I glared up at him. "Yao, I'm going to shove your skinny little arse off of me if you don't stop bugging."

You'd think he would listen, right?

No.

He slapped me.

On the face.

Hard.

Nasty little bugger.

"You need to get head sorted out aru. Life not ending because you lose list, life have to move on! You create new one aru!"

"For whot?! Whoever has it now has probably already told America!"

"No one going to tell him unless he have paper!"

"Don't be so stupid, of course someone is going to tell him!"

"I not stupid, you stupid aru!"

"Get off me, I don't have time for this shit!" I started to pick Yao up, but he planted his palms flat on my stomach.

"I no getting off until you say you make new list."

"Yao, get the hell off."

"Go home aru!"

I pinched his hips roughly. "Get the fuck off!"

"Ow! You so mean aru!" He tried to pry one of my hands off of him, but I squeezed his sides harder. "Leave me alone aru!"

"Not until you promise to drop the issue!"

"You go wank in corner!"

"You don't even know whot a wanking is!"

"Yes I do! Hong Kong taught me, smartass aru! He say you use it whole time he live with you!"

"You're going to believe that wanker over me?!"

"_Shì!_"

"You know, I've never said this before because I didn't want to sound like an arsehole, but I really did like you before you became communist."

"Well, I like you better when you not so in love with America aru!"

"Oh, fuck off, commie!"

"You first, smelly British person!"

"Well…this is awkward."

…

Bloody fucking hell.

Since when have fucking America and fucking Japan been fucking standing over there?! Fuck!

And yes, I fucking know how many fucking times I fucking used the word "fuck". Fuck, fuck, fucking, fucker, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucked, fuck!

So fuck off, fucking bloody bleeding wankers.

* * *

America looked as he usually did: like a crazy, hamburger-eating, confused, amused, handsome, sexy, lovely, dorky git that doesn't know how much love I hold for him. Japan was as composed as ever, but he was letting a bit of emotions show. It was obvious he was not pleased with the sight of his lover on top of me: Yao's hands splayed over my stomach, my hands on his hips. Not to mention the fact that Yao was in a riding position, and fairly close to my bollocks.

Well.

This doesn't look like a good situation, does it?

Both sides were silent for what seemed to be quite a long while. Both America and Japan were staring at Yao and I as if we had lost our minds. China was still struggling to get off, but I was shocked that one, China's lover had caught us like this, and two, my crush had caught me like this. Plus, their relationship- meaning Alfred and Kiku- is much like the one of Yao and I, if not closer.

"It his fault," China pointed out, stabbing his finger in my direction. "He no let me go, Kiku aru!"

"Because you were being an arsehole!" I snapped. Honestly, why is it that everyone seems to be against me these days?!

"No I not! You are aru!"

"You are!"

"No, you!"

"You!"

"Ahahahahaha, I don't know what's more awkward- the fact that me and Japan are still here, or the fact that you and China are riding in the wind like two old cowboys, ahahahaha!"

…

Is he really that dumb of a git?

"Our clothes still on aru!" China blushed heavily, sliding his off my hips and standing. At least Yao saw it as well.

"I hope you know that in order to perform sex, America, you must have your clothes off." Honestly, he couldn't get any dozier than this.

America laughed loudly, now nibbling on the straw of his large drink. "Dude, do you serious think I'm a virgin?!"

I blushed. "Bl-bloody—no, of course not, git! I'm just saying, you were being quite daft saying that China was riding me, which is impossible if you have the clothes in the appropriate places to prevent intercourse!" Alfred had once stated- quite loudly, during one of France's usual teasing sessions- that he had done it with only two people, Kiku and Lithuania, both who had been two of his closest friends (and still were despite a bit of dark history). He had never hinted at having done it with someone else.

"Hey, dude, relax, I get it, I've done it with China!"

"That supposed to be forgotten secret aru!" Yao, face red, shoved America, covering his face with his hands. Kiku looked just as embarrassed as he did. What I want to know is how the hell my best friend and my extremely likable crush managed to get in a bed with each other and have sex. Has everyone but me done it with America? I wouldn't be very surprised, though; maybe a bit, since we only throw fists at each other. Hell, I bet America and his brother have done it together!

Wait, no, France was bragging a few years ago about virginal tightness.

…

Oh my God, that is disgusting.

Anyway, I was going to question them about it, but then the other nations entered the meeting room again. America retreated with Japan to their seats (one would think they were lovers, considering how much time they spent together). China stayed with me, and seemed like he was about to explain himself, but I was already back to my podium in the front, assorting through all of the papers, trying to hold back the fact that I would never find that list, and I would never get Alfred to fall for me.

* * *

The rest of the meeting was a surprise. We wrapped up the previous conversation before the break and continued on with the topic. France and Spain were suspicious, since they hardly said anything out loud to disrupt the meeting, but were rather caught up in their own conversation (in their native languages, of course- and how the bloody hell do they talk like that, in two different languages and yet understanding the other perfectly) that was whispered yet distracting. Romano had to break Spain away to focus on the topic, and I could see Matthew also scolding him…even though France would then lean towards him and try to molest him.

So, an hour passes now, and we're so close to closing the topic and moving on. We can finish the meeting smoothly, few errors, no outbreaks or arguments or fights. We could, if we actually tried once in a while.

Unfortunately …

"I don't think America should be world power," he stated just as the last comment on using energy-efficient cars (which Japan had said very nicely, despite the grammatical errors of his accent) was said. "He use too many cars dat kill environment."

"Like you'd be any better, commie!" America snapped from his spot before anyone could quiet Russia. "If you were number one- which you're _not_- you'd probably try and bring back communism and force everyone to become one with you!"

Russia laughed (the room temperature dropped so much, it's not amusing). "You act so tough but yet so weak! Why someone so young like running world?"

"Because I'm the one who didn't go on a craving for power and nearly ran the world!"

"Would both of you please shut up and let us finish this?" I groaned. "We haven't had any fights so far, and it would be amazing if we can get through one conversation without any issues."

They both ignored me (of course, the twats!) and proceeded with their own talk.

"I did not go on power crave," Ivan grinned, standing up to be at eye-level with America. While Russia kept a calm expression, Alfred was getting angrier. This wasn't going to end very well, I could tell.

"For nearly fifty years you went against my ways of running your country you disgusting communist slob. You convinced so many nations that your ways were better than everyone else's. Even though the republics and democracies outweigh the communisms, they're still there."

"You fail to remember, foolish America," Russia leant in close to Alfred, so close that their noses nearly touched, "I am no longer communist danks to you."

"That doesn't mean the idea still isn't planted inside of your head. You were one of the few that started out like this and you've managed to get others like China on board."

"I hate my government aru," China interjected quietly with a pout that went unnoticed by the two fighting.

"I hope one day you've realized what you've done and finally admit that I've always been right."

"I will once your grave is in sight, _amerikanskiy_."

Alfred slammed the briefcase in front of him close and spat out; "Fuck you, commie." He turned and angrily sauntered for the door, leaving the rest of us in silence.

No one had to say anything. The meeting was already adjourned.

* * *

After that, there wasn't much to do. Everyone packed their stuff and left in quiet chatter that barely made above a whisper. I was the last to leave the room, informing the security guards of the end of the meeting before I made my way to the parking lot and to my car, where I would then go to my flat just a few blocks away.

My flat wasn't much, since I used it less than my own house that was just on the outskirts of downtown London. It was a bit bigger than average and gave a wonderful view of Westminster Abbey, Big Ben and the Thames River. It was built with four bedrooms, three average-sized ones and a master, and a kitchen that I, for some reason, was kept away from by London. Don't know why, though; whenever I used it, everything came out burn-free so all of you American wankers saying that I can't cook, shut your mouths because I can, annoying wanking bloody twats. You're just jealous because I'm the British Empire. And I have better looks than your mum does.

Interesting thing you should know about nations. Besides a country itself being personified, if they are the right size for it (clear all perverted thoughts from your head, damn perverted spawns of the Frog), our hearts, or capitals- and even some cities if they're popular enough- will also be personified. While we as nations look to be in our twenties, capitals are often teenagers, and what we would call our own children, as we do to any other city of ours. America would be the exception; instead of raising cities, he raised thirty-seven states, and grew up with the thirteen/fourteen colonies-now-states whilst under, well…whilst under my rule…

…

Getting back on topic: the capitals and populous cities are treated as if they were a newfound nation. They appear out of nowhere, like a nation, but follow the nation around like a loss puppy. As a country, we must teach them how to hide our true identities from humans like you lot, and to hide from others' eyes when necessary. We need to teach them proper etiquette and how to read and write, and even sometimes send them overseas so that they can learn other languages when they need to communicate with other nationalities. And the capitals, so far, are all quite polite and nice to other nations, I must say.

Tokyo is a quiet, kind young lady who, despite her age that has started to slowly affect her body, tries to do anything to help her people; the twins (as sad as it sounds) Hiroshima and Nagasaki, beautiful young ladies, always by each other's side when we have meetings in Japan…even though their scars from the attacks are very much visible, they're still extremely attractive and seem to wear them with no shame (even though they tend to shy away from nations, specifically, America when there's a fight or if someone's loud and yelling). They also giggle and laugh and whenever certain couples kiss; like, for instance, Germany and Italy shared a (rather sweet, if I may say so myself) kiss one meeting, and girls started to animatedly talk about a word that they say a lot; "yaoi", I think it was.

…

Hm. Wonder what it means.

Beijing, just as snarky as China, hates their communist government and yet she somehow manages to put on a positive face for her people; Hong Kong, we already know about- part of British Empire, set off fireworks and was a loud child so he has my eyebrows thanks to a curse, dating Iceland, etc. No need to dwell on him.

Moscow, like Russia, has two sides to her: the kind, hospitable side that we often see, and the cold, hostile half that no one wants to witness. You'd think she'd be cold, and she is, but she tries to make it better for us surprisingly. Looks a bit like a cross between Ivan and Belarus, but…different.

Berlin has been through a lot of shit during her time, even lost part of her leg during the Second World War (capitals are much more human than nations) and has a scar over her heart from the Berlin Wall, but she is just as strong as her nation. She's also just as serious and aggravated, so if she's angry or upset, try not to be the cause of that.

Rome and Venice, well…it's not difficult to figure it out. Rome is grumpy and stubborn and rarely kind unless you're actually in her home, and Venice is continuously bright and cheerful and babbles on about anything. Exactly like the Italy's. The other Vargas family members, however, like Sicily, well, that's a whole other story that is a whole other version of Romano, and Vatican City hates his brothers due to their "Satanic relationships with men", so…we don't see him often.

Madrid- even though Spain is a great annoyance- is just as happy and carefree as he is and tries to avoid the negative topics; Barcelona is the same way, but Madrid- being a capital, knows when to be serious.

Vancouver, no it's…Ottawa…Toronto…Quebec…Saskatche…dammit, what is Canada's capital…

Oh, fuck it; Vancouver-Ottawa-Toronto-Quebec-Saskatche-Canada's capital is just as quiet as he is, but quite kind.

Paris, eh…she's basically a female Frog. Perverted, a bit stuck-up, speaks French to you and expects you to know every single damn word she's saying. However, whenever we hold a meeting in her home, she never acts like that; she's actually quite hospitable. And although she can come off as snobbish sometimes, I will say…Frog did a good job raising her properly.

…

Why is it that I, England, the nation of etiquette and manners, is betrayed so many times whilst he, Frog, the nation of love and dildos, is loved by so many. Fuck, even _Canada_ liked him! They're even a couple, even though it sounds extremely disturbing since their age difference nation-wise is a big difference and Frog did raise him before I wanted to follow America

Damn it all, back to topic: capitals, yes?

Washington D.C., well, sadly, not many know about him. He doesn't come to the social events countries have when their capitals are invited, since he's is usually working or trying to shoo away the headache of having both political parties shouting non-stop. In fact, he's rarely seen so much that some nations believe that New York City, or Manhattan- Amanda Jones, or known to us, the female America- is America's heart. She's always going around, getting into other's business, fighting and insulting Moscow or Beijing, bothering Vancouver-Ottawa-Toronto-Quebec-Sasketche-Canada's capital, chatting with Tokyo, flirting with London. And her sidekick Massachusetts (Abigail Jones) is right behind her, the only thing able to get them down a mention of politics. The girls never were fans of that kind of talk; I remember when they were younger, back when America and I were okay and I had those rambunctious thirteen- fourteen if New York was counted- colonies, when a mention of the King or Parliament or government was brought up and they would instantly run to the backyard or change the subject- Alfred had the cutest pout…

…

I apologize, I've gotten off track.

…

But then I have my lovely capital, London, otherwise known as James Kirkland. Despite his name technically being my middle name when I have to pose as human for anything official, some would say he's the closest one could get to a twin of mine. But honestly, I don't see it. He talks like a Cockney, he's a teenager and a smartass which is basically the same thing, but at the same time he takes care of my flat, house and pets when I'm not able to, so I suppose I can't be too aggravated with him.

All in all, capitals are the gender-flipped version of a nation. Besides me, and America. New York and Massachusetts are more like Alfred, and I would say Liverpool is more similar to me than London himself is.

* * *

It didn't take long to go from the meeting to my flat. I would have gotten myself something to eat, but I wasn't hungry, even though I hadn't had anything to eat since this morning. I really just wanted to go home, drown myself in ale, and pass out. London would be pissed with me, but honestly, I don't give a fuck anymore.

"Yor back earlier than I expected," London commented when I walked in. He was at the kitchen table, most likely writing a report for the Prime Minister. He looked like me, but at the same time he didn't. In fact, he looked more like my brother Charlie than anyone: olive green eyes, bushy brown hair, pale skin but not entirely like mine- and, of course, the large eyebrows that any Kirkland seemed to own.

"You can blame American gits for that," I mumbled, setting my coat and briefcase on the chair beside him. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Not really. Amanda came over and nearly killed Merlin, but that's about it."

Ah, yes. Did I mention that? Manhattan and London- Amanda and James- were dating. Quite strange, since America and I can barely hold a conversation with each other without fighting. Ever since the Special Relationship had started between America and I, a few of my cities and his states have gotten together and formed a strange type of friendship that most of them have managed to keep. America and I were close back then, in the fifties. We hung out more and we talked; when I created my first atomic weapon, just so he felt like he wasn't alone, we became closer. We didn't fight as much as we do now. He was egotistical, but it wasn't as bad as it was. Maybe it was because he had to share the power of the world, and now he's the strongest one of us all. All I know is that there was a brother and a friend that I saw in him, and that I still wish for his attention as more than a friend…

I apologize; my mind isn't in the right place today…

…

"Were they good for you?" I asked my capital, lifting Merlin from the loveseat and into my lap. He glared up at me with bright green eyes but purred against my hand when I started to rub his head. I could hear Holmes and Juliet scurrying around from the other room after I spoke.

"As good as the wee shits can get."

"London!" You could definitely say James wasn't a fan of my pets. Then again, it wasn't _my_ fault they loved me more than the whole world. Some would say that they had to, but I don't think that was the case. "That's rude, don't say that about them!"

"Oi, I'm not the bleedin' ones 'oo bites and pisses on some bloke if they don't look like Arfur Kirkland!"

"You can never be too faithful to your owner." I grinned when the two Yorkshire terriers, brother and sister, Holmes and Juliet trotted inside, barking ecstatically and leaping up to greet me. Merlin climbed up to rest behind my head, whilst the two balls of energy jumped and buried themselves into my lap. They were truly wonderful pets, the little poppets.

London, however, thought otherwise. He rolled his eyes, picking up the rest of his papers and most likely going to the office down the hall to work in peace. Good. I didn't need to drown myself in alcohol with him scolding me.

"We'll be staying here for a while, sweets. Hope you don't mind; we'll get the Olympics over with, and then I promise, we'll go back home. Alright?" Juliet leapt up on top of me to lather my face in kisses. And yes, I talk to my dogs. Don't _you_ also talk to your cat or dog or whatever kind of pet you may have?

Exactly. Now bugger off.

I didn't remember much besides the two terriers fighting for my attention, before I believed I had fallen asleep. When I woke up, both of them were on either side of me, Merlin was in the middle, and my neck was cramped due to the uncomfortable, tilted-head position I had been in. I stirred my cat awake, ignoring his hissing and claws before slumping into the kitchen. There was only one reason why I was in here, and there was only one thing that I wanted.

Alcohol.

The first bottle I came to, I downed whatever was left- not much- and let it shatter to the ground when I was finished. The next glass bottle was gulped down just as quickly, this time with intervals to catch my breath. I gripped it once I was done, the room spinning but my mind still focused if just a little bit. I needed more.

I reached for whatever I could grab, whatever was in sight that read "alcohol" or "ale" or "stein". There was even some wine that I somehow had, and a few bottles of vodka waiting to be emptied.

I don't remember anything.

I knew on my fifth round, the room started to spin quicker and I was nearly brain-dead.

I remembered everything felt so light, as if on air.

And I especially remember passing out somewhere that I couldn't recall at all.


	6. Hide Feelings From Wanking Gits:Somewhat

**Shool awaits me, so here's the next chappie! I own nothing but the plot, and London and New York personification-wise. Hidekaz Himaruya owns the rest.**

**Enjoy!**

**EDIT: Just remembered while replying to last chapters reviews: if anyone has a problem with me introducing city OCs, please do not read my story. I had a reviewer from chapter 4 that accused me of using my story for introducing random OCs. That was only a one-time deal; New York (Amanda, or Mandy) and London (James) are guaranteed to be seen, and so is Massachusetts (Abigail). It's a bit of a spoiler in a way, but any characters that appear here in some way have an important part in the end, which you will see. But if I bring up a nation or city of mine, they are introduced for a reason. That's just to get that out there, and I really hope you all enjoy the next part :)**

* * *

Chapter 5:

Hide Feelings From Wanking Gits: . . .

Hangovers.

Wondrous things, they are.

They can be quite kind to you, can't they?

Oh yes, I love hangovers and waking up to a pounding headache and, for nations only, an exact recollection of last night's events. And the regret for doing said events- simply marvelous~!

Oh wait, I just remembered something vital:

I fucking hate hangovers.

And if you thought I was serious?

Fuck you.

* * *

First of all, with the amount of alcohol I consumed, which was an ungodly number I refuse to repeat, my head felt as if Athena was about to fucking burst out of it at any minute. All it is, is an endless cycle of relentless pounding and pain and agony, and it makes you the worse person to wake up to in the morning.

Second, I was in the strangest position, and for some reason was left here by the damn git of a city, goddamn it London, fuck you…

The entire upper portion of my body was up against the dishwasher, my neck tilting my head down so that my chin touched my chest. One hand was lazily resting against my stomach, and the other was off to the side cradling a precious bottle of alcohol. I've been in worse situations; one time, I woke up naked with Gilbert in my bed, snoring into my ear, and Mathias on my legs with his face in my crotch. That was not fun to remember.

…

Something tells me I shouldn't have said that.

…

Ugh; I forgot how sluggish your body could get after a hangover. How much did I drink, exactly?

Well…at least Holmes, Juliet and Merlin had some food in their bowls whilst I was out cold. London had enough decency to feed my pets but not even take care of the country that raised him and has him as his heart. Wanker.

So, with a bit of help from the counter, I was able to pull myself up, putting the bottle on the counter so that I could easily use my arms to steady myself if I fell. That has happened too, unfortunately; and I hate to say it, but yes, it was with Denmark and Prussia.

It's not _my_ fault they're perfect drinking buddies. I mean, I don't get arse-over-tit in front of my brothers or sister! That's embarrassing for one; it adds another issue, on top of the many, as to why I am imperfect and not good enough to rule the British empire; and third, who knows what they will do if I _did_? The last time that happened…well, that's another story. Right now, this is about me trying to get America as a lover.

So bugger off.

Bloody hell I must have drunk a lot.

And yes, that was already established but…it's a lot. I think I broke a personal record.

Several bottles were on the ground, either in full, half, or complete fragments. Some alcohol that was unfinished was spilt from bottles and on the floors. Ugh, there was even some bile or something that was in the area. That's disgusting. Luckily and somehow, I cleaned it up quickly with no problem. Yes, my hands were scratched, but the mess was gone, thank God. I should celebrate with a cup of tea.

And I did. I put the kettle on and gathered the packet (I'd said bag, but there are idiotic wankers who like to turn even that statement perverted) and my cup. I think it was when I placed it on the counter that I realized there was a note from London on the counter. Heh, it was nice he left one at least.

_Had to leave for work early to drop this off. Amanda says hi and to stop drinking if you want to get into Alfred's pants. Have some tea to clear your mind of the alcohol._

_-London_

_PS, don't drink your tea soon. You're probably going to vomit if you haven't already._

_PSS, I fed your mongrels for you. No need to thank me._

What a stupid wanker.

His first sentence is a fragment.

…

He wasn't lying about waiting to drink my tea, though.

…

Let's just say my sink is definitely going to smell when _that_ goes down.

And _that_ is why you don't drink.

* * *

So, after cleaning my sink about three times and trying to freshen it up with a lemon every time, I finally gave up, sprayed some air freshener inside it and finished making my tea. Well, with what I could do. The fairies were already preparing it for me, removing the whistling kettle and holding the cup down as a few others poured it. These weren't exactly pixies or like the ones from yesterday in my house in Liverpool. These fairies were definitely much nicer- mischievous, but they were definitely good more than bad. They were discouraged very easily, however, so you had to be careful; sometimes they could blow up on you without a second thought.

But of course, the world decides to be cruel and have my doorbell ring as soon as I sit down and take a sip of my Earl Grey.

I thought, whoever it was could assume I'm out or I'm still sleeping or I don't want to answer the goddamn door.

No.

Whoever it was, they were still there. Of course.

And now there was even a light chatter to go with it. How enthralling.

…

I might as well open it, even though I still look like shite, and that's after I cleaned myself off.

So, with my teacup on the table sadly, I shooed the fairies away, went to the door, and opened it slowly.

…

…

…

Why.

* * *

"_Ciao_, Britain~!" Italy waved enthusiastically, jumping past the doormat to hug me. I would have pushed him off if I wasn't so surprised that Germany and Kiku were also here, standing and waiting (sanely and politely) to be invited inside my flat.

…

…

…

Well.

Bloody hell; the last time something like this happened, we had created one of the worse wars in history. There have been over seventy years of peace and they were already appearing on my doorstep to shoot a weapon of mass destruction in my head, and say that they're reforming the Axis Powers and causing another world wide war. You can hear the enthusiasm in my tone of writing.

And _that_ is proper sarcasm, gits.

So bugger off nicely, if you will.

"It'sa so good to see you again!" The smaller nation cheerfully exclaimed, backing away to take my hands in his. "I know we've never been the best of best friends for life and you and Luddie never got along but now we can connect because I know how you feel and if you ever need help you know where to find me, either Venice or Rome or Berlin or Ludwig's bedrohhm-"

Germany's hands covered over his mouth, silencing him from speaking any further, even though the point was once again made. "Sorry, he's a bit, eh…enzusiastic today."

I simpered and pried my hands away from Italy's. "It's fine. I'm more worried about whot the hell the former Axis Powers are doing at my doorstep."

Italy said something from behind the hand over his mouth; his lover's reaction was completely stone-faced. "Ve're not here to rage var on you. Ve just vant to ask you a few zings."

"Funny. Another reason why I should prevent your entrance."

Germany let out a breath, Italy humming what sounded like his national anthem. "If you're not going to let us in, zen ve'll tell you here. Or, you could stop stop joking around and let us in, because it's razer private."

I had two choices; shoo them away, or see what they had to say. The first choice, I was leaning more towards.

Why?

Because it was what I always do to others when they come to my doorstep.

But I wasn't in too bad of a mood, even with my hangover. Plus, they haven't done anything to make me furious- well…Feliciano and his lover _do_ make me a bit green when they make it so blatantly obvious that they love each other unconditionally.

…

Oh bugger off, you'd feel the same in my situation.

"Make it quick," I said, stepping away so they could enter.

"I intend to," Germany glared, nudging Italy inside ahead of him. Kiku bowed low before entering. Hopefully, this wouldn't end in disaster.

* * *

"Mister Britain sir, why does it smell like Ludwig's house?" Italy wondered, aimlessly touching my stuff as if he was looking for something.

My eyebrows scrunched together. "It smells clean, or it smells like beer?"

The taller blond glared at me, but it went unnoticed by his lover, who sniffed the air. "Both. Mostly beer though." He giggled, and lifted up a stray bottle of what I knew was stein. "I thought you said in May you only drink English beer~"

I grabbed it from him before he did any more damage, like drop it. "Gilbert left it the last time we were drinking!"

"Oh! That's when you, he, and Denmark all woke up on the kitchen table covered in food and semen, ahahaha!"

"Why did he tell you that?!" That whole night was an accident! Mathias started to spray whipped cream that's in those convenient cans, and we started to have a food fight with everything. We even destroyed some lamps and a window with my scones (bugger off). And of course, London had to stock up on food that day, so we pretty much wasted all of the pounds he had spent.

…

It was still hilarious to see "the King of Northern Europe" fall flat on his face into lumps of tomato sauce.

As for the semen, heh…those two apparently have kinks for me dressed up in nothing but food, because they tied me down to the table like a deer on a hood of a car, and abused me with so many sauces, I lost count and practically passed out from all of the pleasure.

Of course, I was thinking about America the entire time. I'd bet he'd love to lick a dozen food items off my chest with his tongue, drizzle ketchup and mustard on my stomach and remove every single piece off, my arms and legs restrained above and below me so that I can't do anything but take it. And I've never heard a single bad thing about spraying whipped cream onto an erection and then engulfing the entire thing.

…

This is the part where you bugger off and wank in a corner now.

Having some of the best writers of the world, I have the best imagination and creativity.

So bugger off.

Again.

"If you're not going to be serious, ve're leaving," Germany stated after I put away the stein bottle.

"If you're going to tell me whot's wrong, then say it," I shot back as I was finally able to sit down and have my cup of tea that was still heated. Honestly, they should stop beating around the bush. It's getting quite exasperating.

Germany sighed in aggravation; I smirked, looking at him like I truly was waiting. "Your…behavior, yesterday-"

"Oh bloody hell, here it goes."

"How many times have I said not to valk on tables? You can't do it at zese meetings, it's unprofessional! You've even done it at EU meetings. If one of our bosses vas zere, vould you pounce across the table and show za human vorld vhat za British Empire has become?"

"It depends on who gets me pissed off." Ugh. Look. If I am unable to reach someone to hurt, I'm leaping across the table or whatever or _who_ever to get to them whether you like it or not. It's a habit I've formed, and I hate doing it because the edge practically digs into my stomach when I jump even though I am pretty thin, but it helps me get my anger out, so there.

"Za point is, you can't jump over a table."

"Okay, Germany." These gits were so ridiculous.

"So, ve've decided zat za reason you jump is because you have a, eh…crush on America."

The tea I had been drinking was soon sprayed out in front of me and on the table. I hadn't hit the three of them, but it was close. "Wh-whot?!"

"So, you can eizer stop jumping over tables, or you can make peace viz him."

"The bloody hell is this, some sort of anti-Allied-Powers intervention?!"

"No, that was the Blitz!" Italy grinned obliviously.

"Do you seriously expect me to make peace with the same colony as my former charge?!"

"If Yao and I can do it, zen you can too," Kiku quietly said. He had been silent the entire time; almost forgot he was there.

"You two are thousands of years old, that's different!"

"I put a sword into his back." He cringed; memories of hurting your loved ones aren't ever a good experience. "I've betrayed him, as Arfred has betrayed you. But I have made my peace."

"Kiku-"

"My people tried to rule za vorld," Germany interjected. "Zey put zousands into camps and gassed zem. I killed zousands of ozers. I betrayed my own lover. But I have found forgiveness. It is not impossible for you to do za same."

I shook my head. "I don't like him like that."

The trio was quiet, watching me as I watched them, before the tallest held out his wrist, showing me an incision of numbers on it. I flinched, trying not to look away. It's been quite a while since I had seen something like that.

"You were… Your boss…"

Germany fixed his gaze on the branding. "My _bruder_ _und _I had only vanted to gain revenge on France. We gained power by conquering ozer nations. After ve had our goal, ve vanted to stop, but our boss refused to. Gilbert tried to stop za bombs from landing on London, but by za time za planes had left, za two of us vere in a gas chamber, choking to vhat seemed like our deazs. Ve vere beaten and harassed; zey branded us five times to make sure za mark stayed, so zat ve vouldn't forget vhat zey did. I could have refused more times zan I had, and I could have saved zose people. Gilbert and I managed to save two starving girls from zem. Ze ozers had helped us out."

"Ludwig had told me that he was sorry for what he had done, but I didn't know what he was talking about," Italy sadly added. His smile was still there, but it had dimmed. "He hadn't told me where he had been, or what had happened to him, and I didn't want to ask. He had said it wasn't a big deal, that he was back with me again- we were married as humans after that- but…" He laughed quietly, reaching his hand over to Ludwig, who smiled back at him. "Even though I was upset that he didn't tell me, Ludwig doesn't know I always worry." Feliciano snuggled against his arm, humming and smiling. "If he can gain forgiveness from me and most of the world for his actions, you can gain _América's_ forgiveness."

I was silent. I was shocked. I was jealous. The first, because, well, obviously out of respect and if I wanted to talk, there would be no words. The second, I was not expecting any of that to occur or be told to someone like me. The third, because they had gone through so much: best friends and separated as children; together and only having each other and a few more during the two World Wars; the suffering of West Berlin, and now the issues of Italy's economy and Germany assisting him. And yet despite all of the shit that has gone down between them. It's incredible how they manage to find a love life, and a very stable and sweet one at that.

"How do you know that I like America?" I decided to ask, hoping that they wouldn't turn the question to say that I had told them by asking.

"Yao does not rike keeping secrets," Japan sheepishly answered. "He tord me when we were reaving za meeting. Feri overheard."

"You also just admitted to us vhen you asked za question," Germany added.

Fuck. They did. "Well thank you, I'm glad my secret is so well-kept," I mumbled.

"Don't be discouraged, no one else knows about your crush except for us and Yao!" Italy grinned, grabbing my hands between his. I cringed at the contact; he was incredibly perky after that deep moment from before. I'm surprised by how quickly he had changed personalities. "And I bet America likes you too!"

"I doubt it." Thankfully, only Italy hadn't heard me.

After that, Romano had called and started yelling at them, ordering his brother and Germany to hurry up with whatever they were doing before he personally charged to my house and got them himself. Feliciano had laughed as if it was nothing, and dragged his lover out the door to get their car started. I saw Kiku to the door, shaking hands and bowing politely. I saw Yao more often than I saw him, but we were still close, and he did often tag along with my close friend.

"If America hated you, I wourd not have visited," he whispered in my ear, giving a weak smile before exiting my house and leaving me confused and puzzled.

…

Well, fuck.

Now what the hell am I supposed to do with that?

* * *

About an hour had passed before my door was once again abused by a fist, this time harsher and rougher and louder. I had cleaned up more of the flat, let Holmes and Juliet out to the bathroom, give them and Merlin some love, and sip some more tea and look through the paper and some paperwork my Prime Minister had given. And yet it seemed as if I couldn't get a second to myself; I take two minutes looking over my work, and already some arsehole of a git is hitting my door like he's being fucked by America.

So did I answer my door rudely?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Do I give a fuck what you think?

No.

I don't.

At all.

So bugger off, wankers.

After I opened the door, silence washed over both of us, and it became awkward in no time at all. I was unmoving- we both were- and the tension was thick enough to slice with an ax. I was too nervous to say anything. He looked just the same as I probably did, looking at me before casting his eyes off somewhere else. I kept my sight away from him at all times.

_Why does this always happen to us?_ "Hello…"

"Hey," he greeted, nibbling on the straw of his drink.

Silence.

What was there for me to say? Hey Alfred, I've loved you since the Second World War, you're fucking hot, stuff Florida into my arse please?

No. I don't fucking think so.

And yes, it's Alfred at my door. Who else, naked France? Homicidal Russia? Drunk Denmark?

As if! I mean, who else would come to my flat, fucking Sealand?!

Yes, but that's not the point.

Annoying gits…

"Why are you here?" I finally decided to ask, staring at him coldly. He looked over at me when I spoke, eyes as blue as ever behind his glasses. One hand was stuffed into his jacket pocket, and the other was gripping the fatass drink. And by fatass, I mean McDonalds, which is the same thing so bugger off.

"Well Mandy and James were out today and, well…" he faltered, taking the straw out of his mouth momentarily. "And I wanted to talk about yesterday."

My eyebrows raised in shock. He came here willingly on his own? To _me_?! What the fuck?! Did hell freeze over or something?! He couldn't have really wanted to.

…

…

…

Wait, could he?!

"Who's paying you?" I asked.

"No one! I just wanted to come by!"

"Oh, right, because the United States of America wants to see his best friendly rival. Whot, were China or Russia too busy for you?"

"No!"

"So why the hell are you here?!"

"Because I wanna be your friend!"

…

…

…

That was certainly unexpected.

"You…wh-whot did you say?" I whispered. My legs felt like they were going to fall. I clenched my hands into fists to stop them from trembling. It felt as if I was in this dream that I couldn't control and I couldn't wake up from.

America sighed, his face red and his eyes downcast and off to the side before looking up at me. "Can I come inside? So I can…explain myself?"

…

Well…

…

Now what, right?

I could invite him in and see what this whole thing is. I could slam the door in his face. I knew that he, for some reason, somehow, he wanted me to invite him. But what did _I_ want?

…

…

…

…

…

…

"Mess anything up in my house and I'll make you regret it."

* * *

…

…

…

Go ahead and judge me. I let in my former charge, my first colony, my first present crush, my nation, America, Alfred Fucking Jones, into my flat.

And I don't regret it.

I want to hear what he has to say to me. I want to make nice with him. I want him to love me now, list or not. If he truly wants to become my friend, I would be more than happy to do the same. With the Special Relationship starting in the late-nineteen-forties to the fifties, we were honestly close friends. When I created those dreaded weapons of mass destruction that nearly murdered Japan, I did it just so I could prove to both superpowers Alfred and Ivan, that America would never be alone; when he was injured on 9/11 due to the terrorists, I took care of him the best that I could and never left his side.

I'll be honest, it sucks that our relationship has, as of recently, become bigger and bigger apart and created a large gap. But I don't want to dwell on it. I want to focus on the fact that the two of us, despite the rocky past we've shared with one another, have always been loyal in some way to someone, and we can be trustworthy of each other once again if we put in the effort. I desperately need him, want him, ache for him even. I want Alfred more than anything. But hopefully, if he is being truthful, we can fulfill that.

And so here I sat in the living area of my flat, Merlin on my lap as Holmes and Juliet happily leapt and yipped for Alfred's attention and received it without fault. Of course; nearly everyone loves Alfred. Especially me.

Always me.

Forever…

…

So? The line was sappy and overdramatic. Bugger off if you don't like it.

"I never knew you were one for having Yorkies," he commented, picking both of them up and setting them in his lap. They jumped up to his face, licking anything they could reach. "Hahaha! They're cute!"

I rolled my eyes; "Can you please get to your reason for coming here?" Pathetic git; he's so fucking ADD, I swear, he makes Mathias look calm.

America seemed a bit uncomfortable with my demand, since he squirmed and made a face in distaste. "Do you really want to? I mean, I really do want this but I don't want you to hate it because then _I'll_ be discouraged and then I won't want to do it, like, ever unless you suddenly want to which is awesome but I don't really see that happening so I'm just really hoping that you agree to this because it might not come up again from me."

…

The fuck was that?

"I'm sorry, can you…" I started, but he was already talking again.

"Look, I noticed yesterday afternoon when you picked me up from the car wreck scene that I was being a total arse and you really _were_ being nice and could have left me there to be dealt with and be later than I already was and I wanted to say I'm sorry for knocking you back into the seat and being rude to you and I just want to be friends with you again and hang out like we used to because our relationship really is special and it's better than anyone else's in the whole entire world of two hundred something and-"

"America, whot are you trying to tell me!?"

"I want to be your best friend for life again!"

…

…

…

Oh.

Ohhh.

…

That…

That certainly made a big difference for everything.

"So…"

I was at a loss. What was there to say?

"You…you really want to start being…being friends again…?"

"Y-yeah," he nervously shuffled in place- don't know what the hell _that_ was about- and looked up at me. "I feel like crap whenever I'm with you now, and I just want things to be better between us, y'know?"

…

…

…

What the hell is happening right now…

What the-

Bloody _fuck!_

If I'm dreaming, someone better fucking wake me up because this is too good to actually be reality.

…

…

…

Well, fuck!

I didn't really think that this would be real, but…damn, I can't even use proper words right now, this is so-

I don't want to believe it in case it's a lie. I don't want to be hurt again.

But…

…

…

…

It's those precious eyes, those beautiful eyes that I can't resist. I've never been able to say no to those eyes before.

I still can't.

And I never will.


	7. Start a New Special Relationship:Success

**I am so ashamed of myself, I am so sorry D: Over two weeks for a new update?! That's not right! I am so sorry! :(**

**On the bright side, I'm currently writing out the rest of the sequel to Angel and Demon :DD I put up a poll, saw one person voted and cried TTwTT**

**So~ I own nothing of Hetalia. I own the plot and that is the only thing.**

**I hope you guys like drunk!Iggy, because you'll be seeing him again! :D Enjoy~!**

* * *

Chapter 6:

Start a New Special Relationship: Success

"_Hello there, luv."_

"_Hm? Oh…hi, England."_

"_Whot seems to be the matter? You sound so sad."_

"_Nothing. Just thinking."_

"_Whot are you thinking about?"_

"_When I was coming over here, I heard some of the government guys talking about you, how you were wasting time visiting me when you should be working on expanding your empire."_

"_Oh America…"_

"_It's true! I heard! A-a-and I started to cry because I thought- y-you wouldn't want to see me anymore a-and- a-and I'd be all alone by myself-"_

"_Don't you cry, now. I'm never going to stop visiting you. And if I ever have to leave you, I'm telling you first, poppet. Alright?"_

"_Mhm…*sniff*"_

"_Ohhh, my sweet, darling Alfred. I'm so sorry you had to listen to that."_

"_I-It's ok-kay… I-I didn't want to believe it, but they all sounded so sure-"_

"_I know, I know. They just don't understand just how much I appreciate finally being able to take care of someone. They don't know how important it is to have to take care of a little colony like you."_

"_I don't even understand how important it is."_

"_Heheh, that's because you haven't had the opportunity to be a big brother yet."_

"_I haven't."_

"_That's right. But someday soon, I promise, you will be able to be in my place and take care of your own brothers. How does that sound?"_

"_Hm…that sounds good. I can't wait!"_

"_I bet you can't, luv. Would you like to go rest for a bit?"_

"_Okay!"_

"_Just you and I."_

"_You and I."_

"_Nobody else."_

"_No one else. Except for Bunny!"_

"_Except for Bunny, that's right."_

"…_Hey England."_

"_Yes, luv?"_

_Kiss. "I love you!"_

_Kiss. "I love you too."_

* * *

"Are you alright dude?"

I blinked a few times before focusing on him again. I had been having these strange recollections of my younger self and Alfred as a colony. It was strange, though; they came and go as they pleased, always at a strange time, and the same memory so far hasn't repeated itself, and it often stops me from performing whatever I was doing. It didn't make sense why they were happening now. "Yes, I'm fine, just…thinking."

America looked down in his lap, watching Holmes and Juliet whine and paw at him for his attention. He didn't look as comfortable as I had hoped he would be. He seemed…distracted. Was he thinking about the same thing as me?

I'll be honest, I do want to start a new relationship with Alfred. Just a friendship, obviously. Hopefully, it can get into something deeper than that. And I know what most of you reading this are thinking: don't go to the friend-zone, I'll be there forever and I won't be able to get out of it, etc.

I'm the fucking United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. I know what I'm doing.

"I would like to start the reformation of our relationship," I spoke up quietly, waiting for him to make eye contact with me with those goddamn beautiful blue eyes before I continued. "I think it would benefit both of us if we were to go along with this."

"Oh, oh…okay." He nodded. "It sounds good."

I fumbled with my hands, hoping for something to distract them with. "Well, um…" Where the hell is Merlin when you need him? Damn cat, leaving me to look all awkward and idiotic. "Whot should we do first?"

Alfred, wide-eyed stared at me before relaxing and laughing, cheeks dusty with a blush. "I didn't expect you to go along with my idea. I had a whole speech planned if you said no."

"So you really do want this."

He nodded, and his face seemed to have gotten a bit darker. "I really want this, Arthur. Badly."

…

It was frequent for me to use his human name, whether in anger in front of him, or in admiration in privacy. But to hear him use _my_ human name…

It brought back a lot of sweet memories.

…

…

…

I smiled at him, if only slightly. Maybe this whole idea of becoming friends again really can work.

* * *

After that, nothing much happened. I mean, we sat in a rather awkward silence for a while, but that was it. I finally found my embroidery (shut the hell up, gits, it gave me something to do!), and my cat came back, but he was shunned away so he was forced to sit on the windowsill and glare at us.

Oh, and I remembered I have an original copy of my list on how to capture an American idiot's heart.

…

Wonderful.

Simply, bloody, fucking wonderful.

The thing was: I didn't know what the hell to say to Alfred so that I can get up and go retrieve it. He was busy fumbling with his phone or drink or playing with Holmes and Juliet, keeping himself occupied. I was embroidering, keeping myself occupied. It wouldn't take me long to go get it, but I didn't want to sound rude or make it sound like I didn't want to be around him.

…

I don't know! Don't judge! My heart was beating a million miles a second, I couldn't think!

"Hey, can I use your bathroom real quick?" Alfred asked, carefully removing the two terriers from his lap so that he could stand up, fixing his shorts while doing so.

"Yes, of course," I nodded, gesturing down the first floor's hallway with my needle. "You know where it is, right?"

"Yeah, thanks." He smiled quick before he made his way to the loo.

…

His arse is nice.

Very nice.

The way the muscles move gently…the slight sway of his hair…the way his years-old Air Force jacket spread out on either side of him, reminding me of our times during the Second World War and the first time I realized I had fallen in love with a git like him.

...

As soon as the bathroom door was closed, I threw my embroidery and needle to the side and tripped my way up the stairs, before bursting into my study and burying myself inside the clutter. It had to be here, I knew it. I had made a second copy of my list just in case I needed another for some reason, and this seemed like the perfect time.

Please be in here, dammit…

…

…

…

I thought I heard the bathroom door open; holy shit, where the hell is it?!

…

…

…

"England?"

"Hold on, be right down!" _Fuck!_

…

…

…

Yes!

* * *

As soon as the rough draft of my list on how to capture the American Idiot's heart was in my hands, thankfully not in doodles or useless information- or titled for that matter- I ran back down the stairs, nearly running into the lug of a git who was waiting and possibly looking for me. As soon as I was at as much of his height as I could get, I shoved the paper into his chest. "There," I panted. Damn stairs; running down them is exhausting, so shut up, gits. "I've wanted this for a long time. I wrote down suggestions so that I wouldn't forget them and that maybe an opportunity like this one could put it into good use." Nice save, Arthur. That wasn't too much of a lie; I didn't have to mention about me wanting to capture his heart until we were closer.

Behind Texas, his eyes skimmed the page with interest, sometimes laughing or smiling, or shaking his head. I waited, albeit nervously. I didn't want him to be disturbed or scared away just because of a silly letter, but I was being honest with him, and hopefully he can be honest with me. If not, well…I just embarrassed myself in front of the United States of America.

"You'd really let us watch horror movies together?" He asked, looking up momentarily over the top of his glasses with joy. Whoops; forgot about that. Forgot about his love for them, too.

"I'm choosing the movies, though," I pointed out. What, you think I'd actually let _him_ pick it? He'd probably pick something terrifying, practically wet himself over it, and then ask to sleep in my bed so that I could comfort and hold him like when he was younger.

And not in that way, perverted twats!

You're all disgusting, the whole lot of you.

America nodded with a faint smile on his face that grew. "Sounds good to me," he answered, looking up at me, supposedly for a reaction. I nodded in response to him, my heart pounding in my chest, hoping he wouldn't go against what he said. "You've had these ideas for a while now?"

"W-well not exactly a while, maybe a few days or so, I just scribbled them down as a suggestion," I replied. Good save, Arthur, it was a totally awesome excuse.

I am so goddamn cynical, I am crying from laughter.

"Really?" Alfred looked a bit embarrassed, cheeks showing it shamelessly. "If I had known you had ideas for us, I would have confessed the idea to us earlier in time."

"But you're still up for this, yeah?" Please say you are, please say you are, please say you are. Please, please, please, that's all I ask of you.

"Of course! I really want to do these things with you, Arthur! I-I mean, eh…" He looked away, his face seeming to get brighter while he still stole small glances at me. Honestly, he was too dorky and adorable for mankind, he really was.

To spare him more embarrassment, I shook my head. "It's fine. I think it's best if we start to use our human names when around each other to see if it can help us get closer." To call a country by his or her human name was rare but for a few reasons: one, we don't want the humans hearing our nation titles being heard; two, you were lovers so it was common to hear a couple say it to one another; and finally, it showed how close you were to that nation, depending on who it is. For instance, Yao and I are what you would call best friends, as are Alfred and Kiku. Gilbert and Mathias, I'm good friends with, and I use their first names often. It all depends on your relationship.

Sorry, got off track there for a tick. Where was I?

America- _Alfred_- smiled with a nod. "Okay. That sounds good. I can do that," he answered, folding the paper and handing it back to me.

"We can start anywhere," I noted, resisting the urge to wring my hands. Damn things; I always fidgeted when I was nervous. They needed something to do. "We can go out to a pub and get some fish n' chips, or we can…get some ice cream later on, maybe. I have a few things scheduled during the day- for the Olympics, don't fret- and some nights, but in the afternoon, I'm free."

"That's fine. I gotta do a few things, too."

Oh that smile. That goddamn handsome smile. So…so entrancing. He's a truly beautiful nation. I'm happy to have been able to raise him. "That works out well." I smiled, but it didn't last very long, and I returned to fumbling. Alfred seemed uncomfortable as well, leaning from one foot to another. "So, ah…if there's nothing going on with you, do you want to…go to the pub?" Fuck Arthur, how did you manage to stay so calm during all of that?

Ame- _Alfred_ seemed to think through the thought, his eyes wandering to the ceiling and his mouth opening partially to form silent words before he glanced down at me with a grin. "I'm good for tonight."

"That's great." Yes! Ha! Take that, you wankers who never believed I would be able to do anything! Ha to you all!

He chuckled- _holy shit it sounded so heavenly and gentle, my God_- with his lips still raised up. "Y'know, I'm really excited about this. It's gonna be…" He shrugged, eyes diverting down to his feet. "It's gonna be awesome."

…

Our conversations are so awkward.

I love every minute of them all.

* * *

Because it was only noon and we wouldn't be going out for another six hours, we decided to just relax and talk until then. It was nothing fancy. In fact, the entire thing was casual. We talked about anything, everything; specifically, and mostly, how his election was coming up and his heart and head were usually hurting (it's a bit personal, what he said, so I won't say it- it's also to avoid offense to the two sides). Poor lad seemed upset about the whole thing. He didn't like government fighting in general, since it gave him one hell of a headache, but he had said this year was full of so much mudslinging, he didn't know how to properly handle it.

There was only one problem.

Someone, I don't know who, was calling- and at a rather important time as well. Alfred was just explaining what traits he wants in a boss before it started to vibrate. I didn't even see who it was; I just chucked it behind me without checking to see who it was.

…

Alfred is much more important than a phone call from my boss.

"Why did you-" He looked from me to my phone that I had tossed.

"Continue," I instructed, ignoring his unfinished statement.

"Dude, that might have been important, like your boss."

"Oh, no, it's fine, they just want a confirmation on the Opening Ceremony events and such. They don't need to do so, but they want me to be satisfied with them."

The dear lad seemed to brighten at the mention of the Olympics. "I'm really excited for that!" He grinned. "I can't wait to go against Kiku and Matt again in the 400 meter- and I hear China's entering too!"

Every summer Olympics, the countries are always active in some way. Every year, eight of them went off in the 400 meter, and there was always a large competition on the day before the Closing Ceremonies. When Yao hosted, eight of us entered in the gymnastics section, sadly losing to him (damn contortionist; he and Kiku should have limits). This year, since I am the host, there's a football match (and the proper football, not American football, Yankee twits) against Frog and I. Even though it's very obvious who will win (me, just in case you're wondering for some daft reason). The two of us had already chosen our teams: he had Spain and Gilbert, Romano, Matthew, the Netherlands, and I believe Sweden and Finland; I had Italy, Germany, Kiku, Yao, Mathias, Lukas, and of course…I, I asked, well…I asked Alfred if he could join as well. First he insulted me and said how my eyebrows won't be messing up his awesome soccer skills, but then agreed. He didn't even hesitate when he did so.

Right about now, the house phone started to go off. Alfred looked agitated. "Dude, just answer your damn phone."

"It's fine," I tried to reassure him, but he didn't seem so sure.

"Dude, what if there's a terrorist attack, or a natural disaster!"

"Alfred, I think I would know if I was being attacked right now, don't you think?"

"But you're old, so maybe you don't even know."

"Excuse me!? I am not that old!"

"Yeah! You're like, two thousand!"

"Sixteen hundred and two, thank you very much!"

"Ewww, that's so old!"

"No it's not, stop whining!"

"I'm not whining!"

"Yes you are, stop acting like a child!"

"Stop itttt!"

"See, now _that_ is whining."

"Ar_thurrrrr_-"

"You're whining again!"

"Stop picking at every little thing I do wrong!"

"Well I'm sorry for trying to correct you!"

"You're not correcting me, you're being an ass!"

"_You're_ being an arse!"

"You're six hundred, so you're the ass first!"

"That's ridiculous, stop being such a child!"

"Why the hell did I even come here in the first place, I knew the outcome would be horrible as always!"

"First of all, you wanted to become better friends with me. And second, if you knew it would be the usual, then you shouldn't have come here in the first place!"

"Then I'll fucking leave!"

"Good, you were making my house smell of a fucked twat anyway!"

"Thanks a lot, fucker!"

"Awesome!"

"Wonderful!"

Slam.

…

…

…

What the hell did I just do?

* * *

I sat in silence for a bit, staring at my hands as my thoughts raced around my head. Alfred and I…America…I… _We_ had started to fight. I was being picky. He was being immature. We're both at fault because we didn't stop to think about what the hell we were doing and if we would be able to fix this and not be stupid about it. But we're just too stubborn and proud to back down from a fight and have the other boast about his triumph.

…

I can see why he left. We're both absolutely ridiculous.

About five minutes later, Alfred walked back in and sat down in the empty chair beside me. I was still staring at my hands, since I was too sick to my stomach to be doing much than that. He was quiet as well; I could tell he was horribly upset.

"I'm sorry for insulting you," he mumbled after another few minutes.

"No, I'm sorry," I replied back at the same volume as he. "It's my fault that we started to fight."

"No, I shouldn't have called you old; I didn't even know what I was talking about."

God fucking bloody damn it all to fucking bloody bleeding hell.

Why the fuck is he so perfect?!

"I think we're both at fault," I started to say, but he cut me off before I could go further.

"No, you only reacted to me…I was being stupid. I was the first one to act stupid, and you were just…you were just throwing my behavior back onto me."

Holy shit.

Ameri- Alfred is actually being…modest? And honest?

…

What the hell?!

"We just have limits as to where we can go with one another, that's all," I explained. We both had certain buttons that shouldn't be pressed, but we poked anyway. Everyone did.

He nodded. "And we just have to find them."

"Exactly." My left hand was warm. It wasn't a bad warm, like when you touch a pot or pan or plate after cooking. It was a nice kind of warm, one that actually provided comfort for me.

…

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

…

There was a hand.

And not just any hand.

There was a large hand.

A hand that led to a brown bomber jacket.

A hand with fingers that stroked the top.

A hand that belonged to Alfred.

He seemed to have put it there on purpose and was staring at it and mine with slight interest. So he knew what he had done. I felt my cheeks burn up just a little bit, not very much, when our fingers intertwined, him purposely and mine on instinct. I gulped; this was making me a bit nervous. Alfred seemed alright with it

"Your hand is…," I trailed off, waiting for him to get the picture. It's not that I didn't want this- bloody hell, you all know that I ache for him- but I wasn't _ready_. Right now, I wasn't comfortable to be doing this with him. I have to warm up to people to get used to certain actions; it's just a Taurus thing. Ask Lukas. He knows more about astrology than I do. I just have the magic experience and am able to talk to fairies and brownies and faes, etc.

The bottom line: no matter who the person is, depending on their relationship with me, certain actions make me uncomfortable. For instance, if Lukas started to act all cheerful and Mathias was apathetic and showed few expressions, I'd act awkward around them because that's not how I'm used to seeing them.

…

Holy shit.

If Norway and Denmark ever switched personalities, that would be Hell. Pure, utter, extreme hell.

…

Sorry, I'm digressing again.

Alfred fixed his gaze from me to our hands before he slowly pulled back, leaving my hand partially-curled and cold. "Sorry," he apologized, looking down at his hands as his fingers knocked together. I could see the rejection in his eyes, and I felt bad. I wouldn't be surprised if he thought that I didn't want any of that.

"You'll have to pardon my actions," I said to him in a quiet voice that I hoped he heard. "I'm not used to actions like this…"

"It's fine," he managed a sweet yet strong smile. It was force, though; you could tell. "Can we, like…walk around London or something? I haven't seen it in a long time."

The last time Alfred had stopped to see London on a visit was in the 1990s, a little while after the Soviet Union broke apart. It didn't turn out very well, I remember.

"_I can't believe I finally won."_

"_Yes, it's quite astonishing."_

"_What d'ya mean?"_

"_I didn't expect it to be so short. I thought it would have gone on for longer."_

"_Pfft, naaah, of course not! I __knew__ he would fall within fifty years."_

"_Hm…"_

"_Trust me, Igs. The hero knows what he's doing, and the hero is confident he will always survive."_

"_It's not that I didn't believe in you, it's just…something tells me that it was difficult."_

"_Well, yeah, of course, it's Russia we're talking about! It was his way of life for a long while, and he just had it removed and replaced with something that he hated!"_

"_No, that's not whot I meant."_

"_Then, what did you mean?"_

"_I meant that something terrible happened in order for you to succeed."_

"…"

"_You don't have to tell me why you did it, or whot happened. But there was, for a long while, a time where you didn't contact me. You…it just seemed like you were either hurt or ignoring me, and I refuse to believe the latter-"_

"_That's none of your business."_

"_I'm not done."_

"_Well too bad, I'm not letting you finish. Nothing happened, it's over. Let's just drop it."_

"…_Why are you acting so paranoid all of the sudden? Whot did you do? Whot happened?"_

"_Nothing happened! I was tired and forgot to call!"_

"_For two weeks?"_

"_Arthur, it was an accident, just let it go, please?"_

"_Were you avoiding me?"_

"_What?"_

"_If nothing happened to you, then you were avoiding me, correct?"_

"_No!"_

"_So whot happened?"_

"_Nothing!"_

"_Alfred, you as a person have been able to trust me for the past few decades- we shared drinks, we went to concerts, we did drug, I got your ass out of an alley during your bicentennial celebration! We did all of these things together! We bonded and got wasted and high and stoned and anything else that you can imagine- fuck, we even got arrested and broke out of jail using a tea cup and a crowbar! I created atomic weapons to add another threat to Ivan and make __you__ realize you weren't alone, but you can't even tell me whot happened for the few days that you didn't contact me!"_

"_Because nothing happened!"_

"_So you were avoiding me then!"_

"_Know what England, you're fucking insane. It's been over two hundred years and you still can't face the fact that I'm grown up and not your colony anymore and I can do what I please now."_

"_I know that, America. I'm reminded every single goddamn day that you're your own nation. So if you want to remind me of that fact again just to hurt me, then you get the fuck off of my land and go back home."_

"…_what?"_

"_Get the fuck out!"_

"Arthur!"

I broke out of my dazed mind to look at Alfred. I could see he looked concerned, sky blue eyes watching me intensely. I could see his hand curling in place, as if he wanted to grab my hand and try and comfort me.

"Are you alright? You look…," he gestured towards me, mouth opening and closing to try and find the right word.

"Pale? Tired? Fatigued?" I suggested. He was too pitiful to not help out.

"Yeah." He nodded almost hesitantly. "You don't look good."

I smiled small. "It's 'well', not 'good'." His eyebrows rose in shock, probably not having expected that, but he relaxed with a sigh.

"Sure. Are you… Are you alright now?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just…reminiscing."

He chuckled with a rise of his lips. "Is that a usual thing for you?"

"It's the occupation of old men to remember old times."

"Old times with the one he cares about?"

I looked up at him, surprised that he knew, or rather suspected, the topic of my thoughts. "Exactly."

He smiled wide at me and stood up from his chair, shaking his Styrofoam cup before taking a final sip from it. "Do you wanna head out early now?"

I was quiet at first. I was still a bit dazed from the memory of our fight. It had only added to our issues and even put us far apart once again, but I was hoping to never look at those horrid memories again and to spend time with my hopefully new friend.

I looked up at him and nodded, and I could feel a weight lift off me as he beamed at me with the most beautiful happiness I had ever seen. "Let's go."

* * *

Both Alfred and I had decided to make our trip to the pub a bit early- no real reason as to why we did so. We just felt like going a bit early to have a few drinks and start talking again. We mostly chatted about who we were close to, like personal friendships we had, and our relationships with Gilbert and Mathias (but I didn't talk about our sexual escapades, yet that had been before Lukas and Mathias had hooked up and had become a couple and they were becoming less and less frequent). We didn't start out with drinks yet, but it was obvious there were going to be. Alfred was going to have his regular Coke, but I would make sure that would not be the case for the entire night.

We all have to have a bit of fun in our lives once in a while, yes?

"When did you even start drinking?" Alfred asked after I downed a glass of ale in one go.

I looked at him after sliding my glass over the bar for a refill. "Francis introduced me to wine when I was a young teen. But I used to have that simply with dinners. But then piracy caught my eye, and it…just became a habit, I suppose." We had been playing this game of, as he called it, "Question for a Question". One of us would ask a question, and the other would respond and then ask his question. "Have you ever gotten arse-over-tit?" Alfred stared blankly at me before I blinked and shook my head. "Sorry, you don't understand a lot of British slang yet."

He chuckled, a bit awkwardly if I do say so myself, drink halfway to his mouth. "Ya think?"

"Whot I'm asking is, have you ever gotten extremely drunk?"

"Well," he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and I slid over the napkin he used as a coaster, "for Eurovision 2009 and 2010, I had vodka from Russia and Norway and woke up in between Mathias and Gilbert. Twice."

…

Holy shit.

We had the same fucking experience with those two.

What is life.

"I know that feeling." I took the first sip of my new drink. My God, I love the smell of ale and a good bar. The entire area gave off the impression that you were on a pirate ship. The tables were obviously made of wood and looked like they had been homemade; there were nets and little knick-knacks of decorations, ornate around the place. Everything was a bit of nostalgia for me. "I have woken up many a times with both of them in my bed."

"What did you do with them?"

I looked at him with raised eyebrows and an "Are you serious" look. He sheepishly chuckled, looking down in his glass with a blush.

"Eh…you have a lot of experience with sex then?"

I shrugged. I used to get around, I supposed. Frog, Spaniard, China, Japan, Russia, Denmark, Norway, Prussia, Austria, Hungary, Romania, others I probably have but can't remember. It's ridiculous to say this, but the others I've had it with it have all done it due to war (suppression is the cause of that), rape (I'm sure a majority of us have either done this or been victims of it), or feelings that turned out to be false (for me, both Yao and Kiku have a way with catching my eye). Or they were fuck buddies.

"I've never had many relationships that had love behind them," I clarified the best that I could with (hopefully) harming him. "Most of them were just suppressed feelings that needed to be sorted out, like during a war situation. There were not really any moments when it was out of love. Only two times, nothing more." I glanced at America out of the corner of my eye to see he was staring- what seemed to be- contemplatively at the bar, fingers tracing over a crack in the wood. I wanted to tell him how I felt for him, how my heart wanted to burst at the sight of his smile, how I had loved him and everything about him since he was a child, how I had ached for him since the Second World War…

But I couldn't. I was too cautious to reveal too much emotions yet.

"Have you ever slept with someone?" I wondered, trying to distract myself by twirling my glass and knocking the ice against the sides.

"A few," he answered with his cheeks a light blush. "Kiku and I stole each other's virginity. He didn't ever, y'know, top me, but I hadn't done it with anyone before him. Liet and I did, maybe…three times. Not many though, since Russia took him back. Uhm…on V-J Day, after we were celebrating, China and I ended in the same room. And then the same bed…" Sky blue eyes looked over at me for a reaction. I only blinked, nodding for him to continue. "You aren't mad, are you?"

"Of course not!" Poor git, he thought I was mad at _him_? Impossible. "Whoever you had sex with is your own thing. I don't take offense to that."

He smiled with a quiet laugh. "Awesome. That really helped."

I returned the gesture. Maybe we wouldn't be as awkward as I thought we would be.

* * *

After we had ordered and chatted all friend-like with each other, the food had come out swifter than I had thought, two plates of fish n' chips (with some ketchup on the side of Alfred, since he always seemed to need it for every damn thing that he had) and ale. I had forced both the git and the bartender to stop letting Alfred had regular Coke and give him some alcohol.

"Dude, I don't want either of us to get tipsy, and I don't want _you_ getting drunk."

"Oh relax, git, I'm fine," I assured him, patting what was his shoulder and not his face even though it was so shut up damn gits…

"No, you're not, actually."

"Shut up, you smell like ale."

"Uhh, that's you. You're falling out of the chair, your breath is disgusting- stop squishing my face!

"I'm not squishing your face you arse, shut up."

"This is why I don't appreciate alcohol as much as I used to."

"I remember those days." Whoa, his warmth when you sit next to him is so comfy! "In the eighteen hundreds, you used to smuggle alcohol into your home, you rebel~"

Just so you all know~, I don't even know what I'm saying at this point~!

* * *

So we ate. It was delicious, of course. English cuisine _is_ appetizing! Alfred enjoyed it too! He ate everything so quickly without a problem, even though he was smiling at me and laughing, and scowling me~!

…

…

…

I don't remember much from that night, hahaha~!

"Alfred, Al, Alfred! Alfie! Let's go here!"

"Nonono, Artie, stop. We're not going on the Ferris wheel, it's too late."

"But it's blue! I love blue! Like your eyes! You have pretty eyes, Alfie!"

"That's- thank you, that's really… That's really kind of you."

"Hey…hey, hey! Lookit! There's a, a… Alfie, what is it? I don't remember!"

"That's, uh… Isn't that Big Ben?"

"I don't know~ ahahaha~! Ooh! Listen! It's ringing!"

"It tolls every hour, right?"

"Mmmmm, maybe~!"

"Dude… you really are drunk."

"You are so _rude_, don't call people names!"

"Arthur, come on, don't- _whoa!_"

"Wheeeeeee~!"

"No, stop! You can't swim!"

"But I wanna swim!"

"You can't, stop- dammit, stop wiggling!"

"You're so warm~-"

"Arthur-"

"Ahh…"

"…"

"You carry me like a bride~, hehe!"

"Sure…"

"You're warm~"

"A-ah, yeah, um-"

"Oh! I hear your heart beat!"

"…"

"It's the prettiest, beautifulest, wonderfulest sound I have eeeeverrrrr heard~"

"…Thanks."

"Can we go home…"

"You wanna go home?"

"I wanna go to _our _home…"

"We don't… Alright then, let's go home, Arthur. I'll take you there, I promise we'll get there, 'kay?"

"Thank you, Alfie."


	8. Try Not to be Awkward With Gits: Failed

**Blah blah, awkwardness and nerds, love it! Feel the feels! I own nothing but PLOT! *goes to sleep because she needs it***

* * *

Chapter 7:

Try Not to Be Awkward With Gits: Failed

"_England!"_

"…_America!"_

"_I haven't seen you in forever!"_

"_It's only been two weeks, luv!"_

"_That's a really long time, though!"_

_Chuckle. "Come here, you."_

_Laugh._

"_You've gotten taller!"_

"_I know! I checked myself the other day and it said that I grew three more measurements than before!"_

"_That's so good! In time, you can be taller than me!"_

"_Noooo, I can't be taller than you! You're an empire! I'm just a colony!"_

"_But someday, you'll grow to be big and strong. But I can see you're already accomplishing the former trait."_

"_Hehe! Hey! Don't touch my belly!"_

"_You got a bit rounder over here too."_

"_No I did not! That is crazy talk!"_

"_Aww, don't frown, little one, my words have no bite in them."_

"_I know tha-aat! You say every day that you love me!"_

"_I do, and I will say it for as long as I am here with you and you are here with me."_

"_Every day?"_

_Smile. "Every single day." Yawn. "Do you know how terribly fatiguing it is to travel across a gigantic ocean?"_

"_I know how hard it is to cross a lake or a river! They're really tough for me. I had to do that once with a tribe of people because I was hungry and the food was so far away!"_

"_That sounds quite tough."_

"_It was. But we got the food! It was really good!"_

"_I'm glad it was. Tell you whot; since you have not visited yet, how about we take a trip to London when I leave in a few months?"_

"_Really? You're going to take me to London?!"_

"_Sure! I'll show you where I usually live and where the King lives, and I'll show you where Shakespeare's plays are performed."_

"_Shakespeare?"_

"_I'll teach you about him when you're a bit older. How does that sound, though, luv?"_

"_It sounds incredible! I can't wait!"_

"_Well you'll have to, I'm afraid. Like I had said before, I am quite tired from my trip over here, and I'm afraid my legs are about to give out any moment. Would you mind if I rested my legs before we take our walk, poppet? I just want to relax and perhaps help you with your reading and writing."_

"_Yes! I tried while you were gone, but I messed up several times."_

"_That's quite alright. Practice is good because it helps you become better and eventually you will master it. Go get your chalk and board, I'll gather my parchment and ink for you."_

"_Okay!" Kiss. "I will be fast, I promise!" Run._

_Smile. "Love you, darling…" _

* * *

…

…

…

Why the fuck do I always end up drowning myself in alcohol…

And fuck you, I know you're scolding me because I drink too much. Bugger off. I remember everything that happened.

…

…

…

Shit.

Someone- I don't care who- please tell me I did not say what I think I said to Alfred.

…

…

…

If you need me, I'll be hiding under the duvet.

* * *

Like I had mentioned beforehand, nations can remember severe details on what they did while intoxicated with alcohol. And when I say severe details, I mean every single bloody fucking damn thing that occurred.

So I know exactly what the hell I did, I know exactly what the hell I said, and I know exactly who the hell I was with.

So bugger the fuck off.

…

Another thing I remember…

I think I woke up once during the middle of the night. It was still dark outside but there were voices coming from just outside my door. The voices weren't hard to distinguish from who was who; one was obviously London, the other was the American git. Since I was still half-asleep, I just remembered that Alfred and I had gone out drinking, nothing more. He was talking to my capital about something, before he noticed I was awake.

…

I don't remember much besides what felt like a warm kiss against my forehead.

…

I hope it was a kiss.

…

I don't remember when I woke up, either. There was some mumble of a foreign language, a few things hitting my bed where my legs were, a splitting headache, a perfect recollection of last night, and a country with his hair falling out of its ponytail and a basket on his back.

Yao.

Of course.

Oh, and he's so damn loud.

Perfect.

"Yao, please, shut up," I asked him, quiet but loud enough for him to hear. "I'm not in the mood."

As soon as Yao saw me awake, his expression deepened in fury and a few articles of clothing obstructed my view of him. "You no start with me aru," he grumbled, this time in English. "First, I get call from America saying you drunk and pass out. Then London call me and say you need help aru! I had good time with Kiku last night! I want to sleep in with lover aru! I want relaxation from you stupid Westerners! You make me crazy aru!"

Oh joy. A lecture.

"Yao, there's a reason for this-"

"No, I not done talking aru! You say to me you no call me if you drunk! I no take responsibility of you aru! It too much for me to handle! My ass hurt because _you_ ass and I walking around when I should be sleeping aru!"

…

What the hell is happening right now?

"I didn't call you-"

"I not done talking!"

"Would you shut up for a few minutes?!"

"No, I no done aru!"

"Well too bad!"

"No, it not too bad! Let me finish aru!"

I let out an impatient sigh. "I liked you better when you were a republic."

"Good, because I never like you."

"Oh yes because you didn't ever like me back when I had started to have possession of Leon."

"That different, I thought I like you aru."

"Your moans said otherwise."

"_Bì zuǐ!_" (**1**)

I laughed; this honestly was ridiculous. Here I am, partially hungover and exhausted with an angry East Asian in my room.

…

Well.

Before Yao could reply to me, I grabbed his face and placed our foreheads together. And no, we weren't going to kiss. I was about to tell him something that he would either find shocking or incredible, and I needed his attention.

"Yao, listen to me," I whispered gently to him. Thankfully, he was listening to me quietly albeit the annoyance was clear on his face. "Yesterday, Alfred came here, to my flat, and…well, basically, he offered to have us start being…being friends with each other again."

It must have taken a minute or so for the words to sink in, because Yao was now looking as surprised as I had been. "_Shénme?_" (**2**)

I smiled, and I could feel my stomach turn in a wonderful way at the next words I paraphrased. "Alfred and I are going to try and be close friends again."

A few seconds past, and I thought that he didn't hear me. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was focusing on something else entirely. But when it did finally sink in that the Special Relationship was going to be repaired, his eyes lit up, his smile widened, and he started to laugh quietly, gradually getting louder before he was practically strangling me with a skinny-armed hug.

"_Zhè shì tài bàngle!_" (**3**)He exclaimed. "You get to be one step closer to real relationship aru!" Suddenly, Yao pulled back, grabbing my shoulders. "He know about list?"

"Not the one I lost, I had a rough draft here," I said with a grin, unable to keep my excitement down now. Goddamn it, Yao and his happiness and…communism. Well, maybe not the latter, even though I love him either way, but I'm sure you wankers get my point. "I showed it to him- thank God it didn't have the name on the top, or else I would have died- but…he saw and we're going with this plan."

Yao laughed and jumped in place before embracing me tightly. "This amazing aru!"

"Where is he, anyway? He brought me home from the pub last night, but I passed out on the way home. Did he stay for the whole night and left when you got here?"

"No! He still here aru! He refuse to leave!"

"Are you bloody serious?"

"I no lie to you aru! Look!"

By this point, the two of us had been brought to mere whispers as we carefully stepped down the stairs and listened to the conversation that was occurring in my kitchen. Yao was right; I could hear Alfred talking loudly and rather brashly to Kiku, who was quietly listening and interjecting at times. "So he really didn't leave."

"Exactly aru. He say he stay here since he drop you off. He say he worried you sick aru."

I rolled my eyes, albeit with a smile. "The git…" He was worried about me. _Me_. The very person I have disagreed with for over two hundred years and ripped out my heart…was worried about _me_. Maybe he doesn't hate me like I think he does. "Has he said if he's slept or not?"

"He say he no sleep because he want to be awake in case you hungover."

"Well that's a bit obvious, don't you think?"

"He sound worried, like he no know what to do aru."

"…Cute." Seriously, what is up with that? Before, when we would go out, he would never carry me home in _that_ position, and he would always leave the next morning. "He hasn't done that before."

"He so strange. How you love him aru?"

…

How _do_ I love him?

Was it even a question to ask?

I don't really know what I did love about him. I just found all of him…attractive. His smile, his eyes, his voice, his personality, his existence. I think… I think I've always felt that way about him but haven't realized—

* * *

…

…

…

The most embarrassing thing to ever do when your love interest is in the other room…

…is to fall down the fucking stairs and land on your face.

…

Fuck.

"Ho shit Arthur! Are you alright?!"

…

Why.

Why does his voice have to be so fucking loud?

Why does his voice have to be fucking first?

Why does he have to be so fucking perfect?!

Why?!

"I'm fine," I mumbled, more than just a bit dazed as I lifted myself up to lean on my hands. Fucking room spinning out of control without my permission…fuck you, spinning room.

Ah fucking bloody shit it got worse. Why the hell am I floating? No, actually, who the hell is holding me? Damn American hamburger-eating git. _You_ twits can probably smell him. That beautiful, natural smell of sunshine and chocolate and smiles and burgers and everything else I adore of him.

…

That lovely son of a bitch…

I couldn't find it in myself to protest him very much, only a groan as he shifted me onto my kitchen table, which is disgusting in case you didn't notice, I fucking eat there and my arse is sitting in my fucking stop god damn it all why me…

"Whot the hell are you doing, git?" I asked as he gathered a cloth and a bowl filled with water. He ignored me, the damn idiot, and started to carefully pat down my head with the cloth. "Oi! Whot the fuck are you doing?!"

"You hurt yourself, Artie!" He exclaimed, trying to keep me still as I swatted at his hands to get them away. "I gotta be the hero and help you!"

"Let go of me you goddamn insolent twit!" For the love of Christ…can he never stop?! His arm is grasping my fucking waist like it's a life preserver!

"I need to take care of you!"

…

…

…

Did…

Did he just…

Did he say what I believe he said…

America must have realized what he had said, and blushed but continued with cleaning my forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered, albeit nervously and a bit sheepish…whatever the hell that was about. "It's just, there are a few scratches on your forehead and your nose is bleeding and I don't know what to do really I just know I need to take care of you because you fucking worry me, Artie, and I can't help my worry so I worry even more and then that makes everything worse and-"

"It's fine," I mumbled, finally letting him do what he wanted. Besides, my forehead was hurting badly… "I…suppose you can do whot you like…"

Holy shit, no, that sounded perverted and gross.

"I-I mean, with my injuries, that's all I mean, yes, just…finish cleaning my injuries and then you're done!"

He laughed, a light blush dusting his smooth cheeks. "I got what you meant, Artie."

Ew. That nickname is horrid. I already have my siblings calling me that, I don't need my crush starting to call me it. I nudged his leg with a huff. "Oi. Don't call me that."

Once again, that damn laugh and grin. "Aww, why not? It's totally…" He stopped, his expression still one of joy but now with a bit of embarrassment.

"Whot?"

He retracted his arm to grab a new rag, and glanced up at me over the rims of his glasses. "'Artie' is kinda, y'know…cute."

…

That's when I knew.

Our Special Relationship was much more special than we knew.

* * *

Alfred had tried to clean my face off the best that he could as I prevented my nose from being used as a faucet to expel blood. It wasn't bad in the beginning, but it started to pour out so we had to waste nearly all of the paper towels to stop it. Sadly, and grossly, some had stained my pants in the meantime. I was thankful that I was still wearing my sleepwear. But soon enough, and past a lovely conversation we had had, I was back on the ground and better than before.

Oh, and did I mention Kiku and Yao, the latter who had been laughing hysterically whilst my American Idiot and I were having a small argument? No?

Well he was, the bastard.

This is why you don't befriend commies.

So, the four of us sat down in the small room space with our drinks (three cups of tea and one coffee) to have a simple chat. It was short and semi-quiet, what with Yao and Alfred being the loudest and often saying something to hurt the other (though in actuality, despite the fact that America and China don't get along, we all knew just how great friends they were as Alfred and Yao) only for the other to return with a comeback. Kiku and I kept our conversation to ourselves when they started to try and beat the other down verbally.

"So you two are coupre now, _hai_?" He asked once Yao attempted to be taller than he was.

I took a small sip from my Earl Grey "Not exactly," I replied. "I know for a fact my feelings for him are at that stage, but I don't know how he feels for me."

"Hm." He looked to our arguing love interests before gazing back at me with emotionless chocolate eyes (well they were…don't judge, twits). "I berieve he feers za same."

"You think so?"

"It is obvious. He tord me once zat he cares deepry for someone he once rooked at as a brozer but can no ronger rove him rike zat. Instead, he sees him as a rove interest."

…

That can't be true.

"He's not talking about me, Kiku." I stared into my tea, probably as emotionless than what Lukas shows in a day. "It's a nice thought, but…I know it's impossible."

"_Iie_, _Asa_, he has tord me many zings, just as you have tord Yao. We boz know your feerings are mutuar, but you do not zink zey are."

I didn't answer; instead, I sat back and examined Alfred quietly, the way his eyebrows were furrowed in anger and annoyance, his sky blue eyes steadfast and ablaze with fury, his tensed hand muscles as he clenched and unclenched them, the way he stood, proud and tall against an opposing force. He always did that, that stance; it was to show that he was the United States of America, the beautiful, that he wasn't to be trifled or messed with; it was to prove that he was strong and could be his own independent nation, that he wasn't my little brother, that he should be considered independent, that I should get out of my daydream and look at reality, that he's over two hundred and is managing just fine without me…

…

He's used that pose for several people.

"_Asa?_"

But he's used it on me the most.

…

"Engrand?"

…

"Whot was it like?"

My voice was quiet, so much that I didn't expect Kiku to hear or understand me. Somehow, in some way, he was able to do so.

"I do not understand za meaning of your statement…"

"Being Alfred's first…"

"His first… I stirr do not understand."

"His first everything…relationship, love, heart thief, sexual partner…whot did it feel like…?"

Kiku was quiet for what I expected would eventually turn into a changing of the subject. However, after a while, I noticed, his lips started to form a small smile. "You are misunderstood. I was not-"

"We going aru."

…

Fuck this shit, I'm done with all of this.

I watched Yao pull his lover from the couch and start to drag him off. America looked extremely pissed off, as did China. What the hell did I miss…

"Where the bloody hell are y-"

"I call you later. I no stay here with him aru."

Slam.

…

What the hell happened?

"Alfred," I looked up at him, arms crossed, frown on his features, eyes burning with anger, "whot happened? Whot did you say?"

After a while of silence, which included him not saying a word, he sat down besides me, still not making eye contact with me. "I didn't say anything," he murmured.

"Why did he storm out then?"

"It's nothing!"

He snapped towards me to now gaze straight into my eyes with anger worse than what I expected. I can barely recall him ever looking at me like this. I might have, perhaps once but not often enough for me to become used to it. To be honest, I was a bit startled to see that he was so…enraged by simple words that most likely would be forgotten as they usually are.

Alfred could see that I was afraid, at least a little bit, and he scooted close to me, hands reaching up as if to cup something comfortingly before he pulled back slowly. Instead, he opted for enveloping his arms around my shoulder and then pulling me in for a warm hug. I nearly let out a breath in relief; he's still full of natural body warmth. It sounds odd, but when he was a child, it was as if there was a sun inside of him. It was comforting and nice to hold close to me, letting that ball of warmth curl around me when he had a nightmare and needed something to keep him company and scare away the monsters.

…

It always reassured me that he adored me in some way…whether it was complete and utter love as a child, or just respect as a grown nation.

…

Either way, it still brought me to a smile.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, puffs of air hitting my ear and neck. "He just said something that had me annoyed."

I cautiously (probably awkwardly, to him) wrapped my arms around him, as if he was scalding hot and would burn. "Whot was it?"

He didn't say anything, instead opting to tighten his grasp around me. I always wondered what it was between Alfred and Yao that made it so uncomfortable. They hated the other when they were seen as nations, but when they were humans, they were closer than the Bad Touch Trio (and funnier than the drunk version). I had asked China about it but I hadn't received an answer from him. Alfred, I had never approached him with it, but it seemed like whatever they had done either didn't end well, or it was one of those situations that you were never to return to.

He pulled away abruptly with a grin and blushing cheeks. "Ehh, sorry," he mumbled, sitting back into the couch with a sad slump. I could feel my own face growing red. I didn't understand what there was to be embarrassed about, though. We hadn't done anything strange. As a child, he had always chosen hugs above anything, even the small pecks I used to deliver to those round, soft cheeks (on his face, you perverts, not the other ones!).

"You weren't doing anything wrong," I replied, trying to give him a reassuring smile but most likely failing at it.

Alfred looked at me in mild shock that I could tell he was trying to hide. "You don't mind the contact?"

"Well…no, not really. I mean, it's nothing but a hug." Oh God I don't even know how to word this.

"A hug is usually something that you give, like, other people, not…" He trailed off, and seemed to withdraw from the conversation. Even then, I couldn't understand a damn word he was saying.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

"Well, y'know…hugging is usually for people who…care about each other…" By now, his face was bright crimson, and he shifted in place too often, as if he didn't want to be there.

I shook my head; this utter, complete, wonderful, American of a twit. "People hug for other reasons besides affection. I don't mind it very much, Alfred."

It took a minute for the information to sink in, for then he started to laugh- _giggle_- like a child. Endearing git. "Really?"

"If I wasn't serious, I wouldn't have told you." Heh; did he really believe I would lie?

"Awesome!" He stood up hastily, pulling me up with him, and practically dragged me across the room. "C'mon, let's do something fun!"

"Alfred, slow down!" I was- somehow- able to pull myself out of his hold. Damn twit; I'm not even dressed appropriately. "I'm not even wearing clothes!"

"Well then go get some clothes on! C'mon, Artie!"

"Stop calling me that- and stop pushing me! I'm going for Christ's sake!"

"I'm helping you go faster, old man!"

"Oh hush, you git!"

* * *

So.

After properly dressing myself in a slacks, sweater vest, shirt and tie (I want to look like a gentleman, thank you), we were finally leaving.

…

…even though it had been about thirty minutes since I had dressed. Apparently, Alfred was surprised I had kept my old skinny jeans from my punk years. I still wore them from time to time, also known as Drunk Party Times With Gilbert and Mathias and I.

If you could drink and spend time with us when _we_ drink, you would not regret a single thing. Trust me.

Alfred. Me. Right. That's the most important, yeah?

If you say no, fuck off.

Alfred and I boarded the cherry red double-decker bus that we were taking to go to Hyde Park. We had decided to go both today and tomorrow, splitting it in half so that we didn't have to cram everything into one day. Plus, I was meeting with Vladimir and Lukas (you know them as Romania and Norway) today at 17:00 (what do you Americans call it? Five?), and America wanted to hang out with his brother, which I was completely okay with.

"So, is Hyde Park an actual park, or is it just like…a fake one?"

For the umpteenth time, I looked at him in confusion at his question. "Whot the hell do you mean?"

"Well, FDR had a house in Hyde Park, New York."

This again…Alfred had been going on about real and fake parks or where we were goings since we had left my room in my flat. I sighed. "Alfred, there are several stolen names in your country from others. And yes…it is a real park. It has trees and a path and flowers. There's an upside-down tree (**4**) and even a Holocaust memorial. And it's peaceful and perfect and fine and you'll love it so shut up and be patient and wait."

I thought he would be furious at me for using such words to him. However, it was the opposite of what I had thought would happen. He started to laugh loudly and saluted me jokingly. "Yes, sir, British Empire, sir!"

Git…

When we got to our stop, Alfred moved quicker than probably he had even believed. It was like a fucking cheetah barged in, or someone had food…

He jumped off the steps calling for me, though, and nearly the entire residents of the bus looked at me. Great; now _these_ wankers are staring at me. Fucking marvelous…

"Look at this place!" He exclaimed, gesturing towards Hyde Park with wide arms, nearly hitting me and a few more pedestrians. "It's fucking gigantic, dude!"

"Terribly sorry, he's American- whot are you saying?" I asked him, trying to calm him down and get a reasonable answer from him.

"C'mon, Artie, let's go!"

"I thought I told you…"

…

…

…

He really knows how to shut me up.

And not in that way, perverted pigs.

He…

…

Gently, even though he was acting excited and ecstatic to see the park and I was used to it, he…

…

He took my hand with his, intertwined our fingers, and started to usher me in.

…

I say this a lot, I do…

But he truly is a wonderful git…

* * *

"Soooo~"

"So…"

"The Olympics."

"Whot of them?"

Alfred and I had started our walk a while ago, his arms thrust in his pockets as we strolled through the park like any normal couple. It wasn't raining yet but the skies were gloomy with a promise of that occurrence. As always, it was going to rain something terrible. I hoped the sky cried enough for clear skies during the Olympics.

…

Holy fucking shit, did I put couple?!

I'm going to die, just leave me here to stay here forever…

"Can you give me, like, a few spoilers on what's gonna happen?" He nudged my shoulder jokingly. I could see in his eyes that he wanted an answer. The only problem is that I'm not allowed to tell anyone what we are doing for the Olympics, no matter who that person may be. You have to have permission in order to tell others. I, for some reason, did not.

I shrugged sheepishly. The best thing to do here- as much as I hated doing it to him- was to lie. "I mean, we obviously have it planned out and all, but as far as telling others goes…"

"Oh c'mon, Artie! Tell me what's gonna happen!"

_Well it's combining history and the modern world and the Spice Girls are reuniting for one night. Only the best music in the entire world will be performed, and there will be tributes for only the best, and also, Voldemort is returning and Mary Poppins will go against him, and there will be a tribute to John Lennon and Freddie Mercury and Queen- and did I mention I was going to act like 007 and jump out of a plane before welcoming the entire world to the London Olympics?_

…

I could have said that.

Instead, I acted as if I was staring off into space in thought. "I don't know much yet. They're supposed to keep it top-secret so that the audience can be surprised."

"Awwww. Okay. Surprises are better, anyways, hahahaha!"

Alfred, somehow, surprisingly, seemed to believe that I was telling the truth. No matter; at least it showed he trusted me, if just a little. And that was better than nothing.

* * *

"Sooooo, why is it called Big Ben again?"

"It's a reference to the bell inside the tower, not the tower itself. That's whot some people don't know. Although now it's called the 'Elizabeth Tower, rather than Big Ben."

"Why is it called that?"

"It's to represent Queen Elizabeth's II diamond jubilee."

"Wuzzat?"

"…I'm sorry?"

"What is that?"

"A diamond jubilee?"

"Yeah, what is that?"

"It's to celebrate a passage or ruling of sixty years."

"Wow, really?"

"Are you always going to ask questions when we speak?"

"Are you going to answer them?"

"…of course."

"Hahaha!"

* * *

"Where's London Bridge?"

"Be more specific."

"Y'know, in the nursery rhyme you used to tell me. _London Bridge is falling down._"

"That was lovely singing."

"Really?"

"Sure."

"…"

"…"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Well there's London Bridge that connects over to the River Thames to London and Southwark. But if you're talking about the London Bridge from the nursery rhyme, that one talks about them in general."

"Ohhhhh, I get it!"

"I hope you do."

"So, why is London Bridge falling down?"

"It's just a nursery rhyme, Alfred. London Bridge isn't really falling down."

"Ohhh, okay! I get it! See, I thought it was something else."

"Whot's that?"

"This!"

"…That's disgusting!"

"Hahahahaha!"

"It's not funny!"

"Yes it is! Don't hit me!"

"No, stop it! Alfred~!"

"Hahaha! You're still ticklish here~"

"Stop it, I said!"

"'Stop it, I said!'"

"Don't mock me!"

"Awww, am I upsetting you?"

"Stop mocking me in my accent! I'm serious!"

"I am too!"

"I will push you into the River Thames if you don't listen to me- _FUCKING STOP!_"

"I'll carry you on my shoulder for the rest of the day if you don't stop!"

"ALFRED I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, JUST STOP PLEASE!"

* * *

"Hey hey, Artie."

"…"

"Artie."

"I'm not going to answer you."

"…but you just did."

"Who is talking to me?"

"An American git is talking to you!"

"It sounds like there's a twat somewhere nearby…why the hell is that?"

"What's a twat?"

"Hmm…it must be the wind or something of the sort. Wonder why it's acting up."

"Ar_tieeeeeeeee!_"

"Ohh, whot is it Alfred?"

"Why do you drive on the wrong side of the road?"

"I don't drive on the wrong side of the road, whot are you talking about?"

"You drive on the left side, not the right side. And the right side is the right way, which is the American way. And the American way i-"

"Alfred, don't even go on."

"But you said you'd answer me!"

"I don't know why! Why does it matter anyway, it's not like anyone else in Europe does it! I don't have to worry about accidents often because we all know which side to drive on!"

"Oh yeeeeah, you're on an island away from Europe so you can do whatever you want to."

"Exactly."

"…well that makes sense."

"Congratulations, Mr. Holmes. You solved another mystery."

"Thanks dude, but I'm not the real Mr. Holmes. Oh, that show that you have on BBC, 'Sherlock-"

"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!"

"…"

"My heart fucking broke…I ship Holmes and Watson, you know."

"Dude, you look like you're about to cry."

"Because I am…worse than when Amy and Rory left, it's just…"

"…oh my God."

"Hm?" _Sniffle._

"I bawled my eyes out for _hours._"

"Do you ship Eleven and Amy?!"

"And Ten and Captain Jack!"

"And Ten and Donna!"

"Dude, I was crying forever when she left!"

"She didn't even get to say good-bye!"

"And Rose! Poor Rose, she can't see him!"

"Poor Rose?! She has the other Doctor, poor _me_! I didn't talk to anyone for a whole _month_ because of that season finale!"

"Same with me!"

"…"

"…"

"Mr. Jones. I believe you and I have rekindled an extraordinary friendship."

"Mr. Kirkland. I think you're right."

**1) _Bì zuǐ!_:** (Mandarin) Shut up!

**2) ___Shénme_:** (Mandarin) What?

**3) ****_Zhè shì tài bàngle!_:** (Mandarin) This is great!


	9. Be a Host For Annoying Euro Gits:Success

**Anonymous Review(s):**

**-fan: You stop you! *flails* I'll try my best now! :D**

**Okay, so this is what I call a filler chapter. Nothing interesting happens.**

**...**

**:/**

**But don't worry! The next chapter will be full of breathtaking feels, trust me! :D I own nothing but the plot for now! Also, I apologize for Romania; I've never worked with his character, and this is literally the first time I have, like, ever. But, even with this piece of crap that's just I don't even:**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 8:

Be a Host For Annoying Euro Gits: Success

"…So you two had a nerd fest, realized you shipped Holmes and Watson, and Eleven and River and everything else…and so you talked about that for hours and acted as if you were a couple yet you two are still in that awkward friend stage now where you have feelings for him but you're too afraid to say anything about it…"

"Yes."

"And that's why you were late."

"Exactly."

"Pft, I'd bet money they were doing it under the Upside-down tree."

"Shut up, Vladimir."

Sadly, Alfred had scheduled a quick meet-up with his brother, so even though our walk had lasted a good four hours, extending from twelve to sixteen (what do you bloody Americans call sixteen hours? Four o' clock p.m. or something barmy like that?), we had to cut it short due to Mathias- no, goddamn it all to hell, _Matthew_ calling and asking where he was. Fortunately, even though I was sadly losing Alfred for a bit, I had a meeting, of sorts, to attend to with Lukas/Norway and Vladimir/Romania. The three of us were involved with magic, so much that we had decided to meet up with each other every so often. Sometimes it was difficult, since Norway would call in saying that he was busy (before moaning shamelessly into the phone and begging for "more" in Danish- he still denies doing that), or Romania has issues trying to find a plane to get to London or Oslo, but whenever we could get together, well…

…

Let's just say it's, eh…amusing. Lukas is always a smart-ass, as am I, and Vladimir is quick with these witty, sometimes hilarious, phrases. Or, we could be having a debate: who was the toughest mystical creature, the smartest of us three, etc., etc. It's always entertaining, when we get together, and it stays that way until the guests have to leave. The table was always shrouded with books of all sizes and purposes, with several objects flying around us as we practiced this spell or that charm or attempted to summon this creature. Fairies and brownies and tomtes (the Nordic version of a troll), unicorns, Flying Mint Bunny, etc., they were always around to talk to us or keep us company.

"Alfred and Arthur, naked in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G~"

"Say that we fucked one more time, and I promise you will find yourself covered in blood and bruises."

"Ohhhh, I'm so afraid."

But there always seems to be a conflict in the end.

"You're both ridiculous," Lukas, ruffling through one of his spell books that he had brought, replied to our childishness. The little creature beside him (and yes, we can _all_ see him, thank you very fucking much, gits) grunted, and a small smirk appeared on the Nordic's face. "It's clear the nisse (**1**) will beat you all."

"As if _that_ nisse would even make an effort to go against me!" Vladimir shot back. "I could stun and disarm the _scandalagiul_ (**2**) before he could even make a move on me!"

"Don't be cocky," I warned them. "Remember whot happened last time."

"What happened last time?! When?!"

"September."

"…"

Romania paled and looked away scowling. Heh; he remembered. "That was an accident. I didn't think it would backfire."

"You clearly don't know which spell performs what action, but you can say them easily," Norway added. It was true; when it came to spells, Vlad could pronounce the words the best. However, Lukas knew what they all performed to the very last detail. Of course, the two of them have a rivalry and pick on the other for not being advanced in what he perfects. I had a bit of both traits; and for some reason, my spells and charms were always completely accurate. I don't know how, but the expected result always happened. It was quite interesting, to say the least.

"Well I'm sorry for not having an amazing like the amazing Nordic." Vlad started to use his wand to shape little characters out of the magick powder he had spilt on my dining room table. Git; he better clean that up when he leaves.

Lukas turned to me. "Anyway, you never answered my question. How was the date?"

I sighed. There were two things both Lukas and Vladimir craved when we got together: anything to do with magic, obviously, and my love life. I was the only one of the two who wasn't in a relationship. Norway has been dating Denmark for however many years, and Romania refused to tell us who he was with, and they were always insisting that I should put a spell on Alfred to make him fall in love with me. But I refused to do that. Besides, I read a rather…interesting, what is it called, a "fanfic" that Kiku had sent me once. I was confused, at first, but then I realized it "docked", "sailed", no, it "shipped" Alfred and I together, and it was very well-written, but it has, since then, scared me into performing any type of magic around Alfred. (**3**)

"It was fine, I suppose," I sighed. I didn't want to admit to these gits that it was more than fine, it was fucking amazing and incredible, thank you very much. "He was a git, as usual: asked too many questions, insisted I should do this or that, or that I should tell him my private business, etcetera."

"You loved it," Vladimir murmured, destroying the large Gothic style house he had made to turn it into a bubbling cauldron.

"Mind your business, Vlad."

"It gave you an erection."

"Shut up."

"Erection-causing git."

"I said quiet!"

"No you didn't."

"Twat!"

"Put the wands down," Lukas said- once again, without even giving us a glance. "You're scaring the pixies."

I put my wand back into my pocket, but close by in case I needed to pull it back out again. I wasn't afraid to use it if the time came to. I'm not afraid of Vladimir, part-vampire or not. Heh; that was all thanks to a casted spell gone wrong. We were trying to create Count Dracula himself, but, since Romania was performing it and although his pronunciation of the Latin-based words was correct, he had switched up the order in which they were to be said (trying to show Norway that he _could_ memorize spells). Unfortunately, it had been cast onto him and he had grown fangs and a taste for anything red. He could walk in the sunlight and he didn't turn into a bat, but he did look like one.

"Did you enjoy yourself after all?" Lukas asked.

I grabbed Romania's wand and tossed it across the room, smirking when he scowled and went to retrieve it. "I did, I suppose. We didn't talk about anything serious.

"Good, because you're grinning like an idiot."

Whatever facial expression I had at the moment, it dropped. "Fuck you."

"No thanks. I already have a Danish _franskbrød_ (**4**)up my ass every night. I don't need Cornwall there, too. Even though I'm sure if we were ever in a relationship, I'd be the dominant."

I laughed. I wasn't submitting to anyone unless he was a blue-eyed, blond-haired, loud American that devoted his very soul to me. "Oh yes, because I'd definitely get on my hands and knees and allow you to!"

"You would because I would make you."

"Sure."

"You did for Mathias and Gilbert."

"Whot-"

"I know of your food fight that eventually turned into sex."

"Who the hell-"

"I'm betrothed to a Gemini, idiot. He can't ever shut up."

"Don't Gemini and Taurus, like, never work out?" Vladimir pointed out as he sat back down with Merlin in his arms. My cat hissed and scratched at him to get away. Heh; he learnt from the best.

"What is your point?"

"I'm just saying," Norway blinked, and smirked when Merlin bounded over to him, plopping down into his lap. "Oh, and Mathias told me to remind you about Friday night."

"Friday?" It was Wednesday, what was going on Friday?

"He mentioned alcohol, pretzels, chips, bratwurst, trout, _rugbrød_, karaoke, and the Spice Girls."

…

…

…

Fuck.

You didn't hear a single thing, nosy gits. It's private matters.

I could feel my cheeks burning red. "It's a long story."

Lukas gave me the deadpan "Are you fucking kidding me" look again. "Again: Gemini, loud mouth, cannot shut up. He told me."

"Fuck, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It was quite the entertainment, and I was half-high from orgasm pleasure. I do not remember much from it."

"That's…"

"Man, how come Northern Europe is always having a party?" Vlad murmured, resting his chin against his arm with a pout. "All I have is Elizabitch and Bulgaria. And Ivan and his sisters, but they're all creepy and strange."

"Northern Europe is a pain in the arse to deal with. Someone's always getting molested by fucking frog fingers."

"Yeah, but I mean like you, Den and Prussia are always having a party or hanging out."

I didn't mean to, but I think I offended him when I laughed rather loudly and obnoxiously. "You don't want to be around us when we're drinking. We're the best and the worse."

"Uh, if you guys are singing the Spice Girls, I don't think you're that bad."

"They always end up fucking one another. And by one another, I mean bending Arthur over the table and putting a wurst and _franskbrød _inside of him."

Romania looked at me with scarlet eyes that were both shocked and disgusted. "They put food into your ass?"

"I-it's not food," I muttered, gathering a few papers and going to the cauldron in the middle of my kitchen.

"They put their dicks inside him, Vladimir."

"…Ohhhhh!"

"Yes."

"…What about Florida?"

"Florida has yet to be inside him yet. Those are just late night fantasies."

"Do you mind?!" I snapped, whipping around to glare at the two loudly talking about me. "I can hear you two quite clearly!" Daft arseholes! I'm hosting for them both and yet they talk of me as I am not here!

"Congratulations, you can hear. Some humans can't, so be greatful."

"Whot-"

"Exactly."

…

Sometimes, I hate my friends.

This is why I call it splendid isolation.

* * *

Norway and Romania weren't here for very much, thankfully. Both of their lovers had called, Vlad's to ask him where he was and Lukas' quite drunkenly, as usual. So we only had time to make a strong sleeping potion from the cauldron and then insert the spell inside of its contents before filling it into a vial to store. Of course, I saw Lukas take a bit for himself as I catalogued it in the book, just so we knew what we had and what we didn't.

And no, Romania didn't clean up his mess.

Vampire bastard.

"He didn't clean up, did he?" Lukas predicted as we walked to his car.

"Whot do you think?"

"No."

"Exactly."

"Bastard." I smirked; we Taurus had like minds. "What time should I tell Mathias to come over Friday?"

"Whenever is fine; before I succumb to loneliness and drink myself to masturbation and sleep."

"If you want my pity, you're not going to receive it."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Maybe." He leaned against the driver's door nonchalantly, a bit of emotions seeping through. I had known both he and Denmark from a young age, when they were Vikings and destroyed anything that prevented them from achieving what they wanted. They landed on my land, what they had wanted, and promised me that they wouldn't harm me if I listened to their commands. Being naïve, I trusted them, and they did achieve that. Lukas was almost like a mother or caring brother, nurturing me when they visited; Mathias was the hard working "father", or older brother, that left at dawn and returned at dusk, all dirty and exhausted. I missed their hospitality, even when I met Frog, but I had grown close to them as I had grown closer. And the reason why I'm explaining this, it's because I saw a bit of worry in Lukas' eyes that I had seen long ago. "Will you be alright?"

"Of course!" I gave a small smile to reassure him. "London's here, and I'm about to call Yao. If I wasn't, I'd be begging you to go."

"Hm…" Lukas looked down at his feet for a while before looking up and nodding. I wasn't sure, but I think that was a very small smile on his face. "_En bror bekymrer alltid._" (**5**)

I smiled back. "_Alltid._" (**5**)

* * *

"_Why you two no kiss aru?!_"

I sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time. "I already told you this, Yao. I haven't even made a move towards romance for us. It's too early."

It had been about an hour since I had called Yao, even though he could have come over here to talk over some green tea. He had insisted I called him as soon as Lukas and Vladimir had left, so I could tell him of my experience at Hyde Park with Alfred. Unfortunately, it seemed as if he was doing more of the talking, acting like a worried mother more than my best friend.

"_I no see how you two act so normal around one another when it obvious you like each other._"

"Alfred doesn't like me, Yao." I rolled my eyes as I took the kettle off of the stove and poured my drink into a teacup. "At least, not in the way of a relationship."

"_What you mean aru?_"

"I mean, we've had too many problems as of late that make it a bit hard for us to start a relationship as lovers."

"_Kiku and I have problems and we fine!_"

"Yes, but you two had a treaty made in the seventies, you made your peace! Even though you two are slightly rivals as countries today but that's beside the point." There was a treaty made on the 29th of September, in 1972. It was a clean slate for both Japan and China to build a peaceful and diplomatic relationship. For Kiku and Yao, it was a night filled with apologies and love-making, by what Yao told me. Alfred and I, however, personally, have had our issues in less than twenty years.

…

I want a relationship with Alfred, just the two of us, as lovers. I don't know if Alfred does…

…

But I certainly do.

"_Look Arthur. You two young Western nations that no need to fight each other anymore over something so trivial and stupid aru. You and Alfred need to sit down and talk about issues you have! Also, Kiku say hi aru._"

"Hi Kiku- I know we have to talk, believe you me, but I'm being cautious with this. It's almost like I'm treading on thin ice: if I step too close to the fragile part, the ice could crack and…I could fall in and drown."

"_Arthur…why you so difficult?_"

"Yao, I'm not going to tell you this again. Whot happened between me and Alfred in 1991 is nothing that needs to be discussed at the moment."

"_I no talking of 1991 problem aru._"

…

…

…

He didn't have to say it.

I already knew what he was going to say.

* * *

"_Alfred, are you alright? You've been quiet ever since we returned. Are you becoming ill?"_

"_Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just…I've been thinking…"_

"…_whot's wrong?"_

"…"

"_Alfred?"_

"…_Sit down, Arthur."_

"…_whot's wrong? Are you fine? Are you hurt?"_

"_Yeah, I'm fine, I'm not hurt."_

"_Then…whot's wrong?"_

"…_Arthur…"_

"…"

"_Arthur…I'm gaining my independence."_

"… … …_you're whot?"_

… "_I said, I'm…gaining my independence. From…from you."_

"…"

"…_Look, I know what you might be thinking, and I know you're not happy with me, but…I don't…I don't feel free; I feel like…like my personal freedoms aren't being met."_

"…"

"_A-and I don't want to be your little brother anymore. Yes, you and I are not related by blood, but…I don't want to be recognized as that anymore-"_

"_No."_

"…_I-I'm sorry, what did you say?"_

"…_no…I will not let you gain your independence."_

"…_What are you talking about, I just said I am declaring my independence, it's my right to…"_

"_Look, let's just talk about this some other time, you're obviously not in a right state as of right now-"_

_Grasp. "We're talking about this now, Arthur!"_

"…"

"…_Sorry, I didn't…I forgot-"_

"_Don't."_

"…"

"_How long…"_

"…_what?"_

"_How long have you thought of this?"_

"…"

"_Answer me."_

"…_Well…I knew one day that I'd eventually grow out of being your little brother. That shouldn't be a surprise."_

"_You're too young-"_

"_I'm not finished."_

"…"

"_As for my freedoms…you've put too many taxes on me and my people. I feel repressed and I can't do anything without thinking if it'll be alright by you and the rest of the British Empire! I want to be able to ride Patches without having your men watch me! I wanna drink tea without worrying about it being taxed! I want to use paper and pen and stamps and sugar and know that I didn't have to be taxed to be in my hands! Don't you see Arthur?! I want to be free—"_

_Snap. "…"_

"…"

"_Don't you dare talk of independence to me, boy."_

"…_A-Arthur…"_

"_Don't talk to me as Arthur."_

"…"

"_You want independence…"_

"_Only because you're restricting me—"_

_Snap. "Quiet."_

"…"

"_I've told you before, you stupid boy. I was told, ordered, commanded, to give those taxes to you. I had no choice. They threatened to stop giving me time to visit you, and I would not allow that for the death of me."_

"…_you could have stopped it…you shouldn't have let them placed those taxes on me-"_

_Snap. "I said __quiet__—"_

_Grab. "-Stop hitting me—"_

_Snap. "__**Don't tell me whot to do!**__"_

"…"

"…_you promised me you wouldn't turn out to be like my brothers and sister. You promised you wouldn't leave. But that's exactly whot you're doing. And yet here you are, saying you want…__**independence**__."_

"…"

"_Tell me…tell me why you want this so bad that you have to tell me you're 'declaring' it."_

"…"

"_Speak to me!"_

"_Y-you don't understand! My people and I need freedom from you…we won't be taxed or harmed anymore."_

"_Harmed? __**Harmed?!**__ I can do much worse than just a few whipping marks on you, boy. I could crush you and all of your people into your land and leave you here, if I wanted. I could bring my entire __**empire**__ to your shores just to show you whot you're going against. You can't win if you're going against the British Empire, Alfred. Remember that."_

"…"

"_I will talk to you when you are in a right state of mind. For now, I suggest you take a walk to clear your head."_

"_B-"_

"_And that wasn't a suggestion."_

"…"

* * *

"_You've returned. I assume you've come to your senses, am I correct?"_

"…"

"_Are you going to answer me?"_

"…"

"_Alfred, I'm not joking around. Why is there a bayonet in your hands?"_

"…"

"_Alfred? Alfred, __**NO**__—"_

* * *

"_Arthur aru!_"

I shook myself out of my daydream, nearly screaming into my phone but holding my voice back. "Wh-whot?"

"_Aiyaaaaah. You Western nations always so stupid aru. I ask you thousand times if you alright and you no answer me._"

"I'm sorry, I was…" _Remembering? Hurting? Wanting to forget?_ "There have been these…memory flashes, just certain moments…back when Alfred was still a colony."

Yao seemed to laugh in pain from the other end. It sounded foreign after the gruesome image I had seen. "_I know those aru. They happen when you ache for someone dear to you. I had them a lot when Kiku and I no speak to one another aru._"

"Have they gone away?"

"_Now that I happy and with Kiku, they no come anymore. Sometimes they do, but they pleasant memories aru._" He gave a sad, small whimper, as if sensing the pain I held inside of me. "_That what you having?_"

"I've been having them for a while now." I glanced over at the clock. It was nearly midnight. How long had I been in that memory lapse? "Usually they're pleasant moments, if you don't count right now."

"_Hmm. Memory right now…was it in battlefield aru?_"

"No, it was…" I sighed; these memories are always so damn difficult afterwards. I find myself not able to form words after them. "It was when he first came to me and said he was gaining his independence." I didn't have to tell him of the bayonet. That was for only me and Alfred to know, and no one else.

China made a disapproving sound. "_That no good._" He paused for a second, saying a few words in Mandarin and Japanese before returning his attention to me. "_I say you get sleep now aru. It best for you. It rest your mind and get you to better state of mind aru. Plus, you sound shaky and tired. You need rest aru._"

"I suppose." I set down my tea and sighed. "I'll call tomorrow afternoon. I'm meeting Alfred in Piccadilly Circle this time."

"_You go to Hyde Park again?_"

"Mm. Possibly. I'll see whot he wants to do."

"_Alright aru. You go to bed or else I hit you with wok._"

I scoffed and managed a small smile. "I know you'll keep to your word."

* * *

"_Alfred Jones?"_

"…_yeah?"_

"_We have a letter from Sir Arthur Kirkland."_

"_Oh boy! What does it say?!"_

"_He apologizes for not being here in person for your special day, and he wishes his deep condolences."_

"…_o-oh…thank you…"_

"_You're welcome. And, don't be down."_

"_Mm…"_

"…"

"_You promised." Carefully, with great care, the colony opened up the package to find a well-made, hand-woven cloth, one a brown hat that would most likely fit his head perfectly as he grew and the other a blue blanket with tiny silver stars interlaced inside. Inside of the wrapping were a few more toy soldiers and a carriage, as well as a drawing of the two of them. "You promised you'd be here for my special day…"_

"_And don't I say I keep my promises?"_

"…_! England!"_

"_Haha, there's the smile I know and love!"_

"_The real soldiers said that you couldn't make it!"_

"_I cut my rounds short, luv, just to see you; I wanted to keep it a secret, after all."_

"_How long will you be staying here?"_

"_Count."_

"_One…two…three…four…five…six?! You get to stay for six months this time?!"_

"_Only for you, my darling boy!"_

"_Yaaaaay~!" Kiss. "I love you so much, England!"_

_Kiss. "I love you just as much, America."_

**Translations/Notes:**

**1: **_"Nisse" (Norwegian, Danish; Swedish, tomtenisse; Finnish, tonttu) is basically a troll-like character in Scandinavian folklore that used to protect farmers' homes at night and help them and whatnot. Basically, it's the creature that is usually seen with Norge in artwork and such._

**2: **_scandalagiul _(Romanian): _troublemaker_

**3:** _Lady Skarlett just broke the fourth wall and mentioned one of the best USUK fluff and feels story ever called "Curses" by my amazing bestie Optimistically-Hopeless and IT IS CRAZY GOOD YOU SHOULD READ IT ASDFGHJKL_**_  
_**

**4:** "___franskbrød" is basically bread in Danish; I'm pretty sure it's a baguette, simply, but I'm nowhere near Danish or have Scandinavian in me, so I don't know :/_

**5:** _both Norwegian phrases: "En bror bekymrer alltid", a brother worries always; "alltid", always_


	10. Be Positive About Day With Alfred:Failed

**I am so sorry that this took forever D: My laptop crashed in November and nothing was saved or recovered but now I have the new Envy m6 but I need Microsoft :/ I really do not know anymore. I need a lotta crap.**

**Oh, and the 27th of December was my birthday X'D Happy birthday to me, yeah?**

**So, as usual, to stop the boring intro of my life, I own nothing but the plot. Any and all familiar characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. And I guess Queen Elizabeth's cameo mention belongs to...the Crown of England? X'3**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

Chapter 9:

Be Positive About Day With Alfred: Failed

So.

Piccadilly Circus.

Beautiful location in London. It's part of West End, which is similar to the American Broadway, I suppose. It's constantly busy and has those advertisements with those screens, much like Times Square in New York City does. But Piccadilly Circus itself- consisting of a beautifully constructed fountain and a centerpiece of Eros/Cupid- is usually a place where you can bell your mates and instruct them to meet you here. It's common to see familiar faces here a lot. And the Circus itself was being used for that exact reason for me, seated on the fountain with a book in my hand and another in my lap, a pencil in my hand as I waited semi-patiently for Alfred to arrive. I had given him directions from the hotel he was staying in- it wasn't very far from West End, but it still was a bit lengthy, and at this point, I was waiting and expecting his arrival soon.

To be honest, I was a mixture of excitement and anxiety. On one hand, I was, to put it simply, ecstatic to talk to him again- last time we had gotten off so well, chatting of Sherlock and Doctor Who and the brilliance of Steven Moffat and other things we had in common- besides the two aforementioned, we still watched the same television shows, British and American, and ironically enough, we still have similar tastes in music. But I was nervous because when we are together, it's one of two things: completely wonderful and peaceful, or completely terrible and full of arguments. I don't want the latter to happen, at all. I just want to enjoy my time with Alfred and pretend like we really are in a relationship, even if we aren't. That was my idea of today.

"Hey, Artie!"

...

Oh bollocks, is that him?

That was ridiculous to ask. Of course it's him. Who else sounds like that and who else calls me Artie, and who else would nearly topple me into a fountain with a strong, practically bone-crushing hug?

No one.

No one but the United States of America.

Alfred fucking Jones.

"Oof!" The air was shoved out of my lungs harshly as Alfred plopped down beside me, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing and actually coming extremely close to tipping both of us into the fountain. "_Alfred_!"

"_Hahahahaha~!_" Alfred laughed loudly, smiling down at me from my place beside him- so warm, so friendly, so ecstatic, so lovely, so oblivious to the fact that I waited with my heart in my hands for him to take. Bloody hell, he is a gorgeous nation. When can I bloody fucking just _have_ him?! "Sorry, dude, I'm excited!"

"I can see that." I held back a laugh- _bloody hell he's fucking gorgeous_ _can I just have him for mine_ _why do I have to share him with the rest of the fucking world_- and closed my notebook so he couldn't see what I was writing. "How are you? How's your brother?"

He shrugged, a slight falter in his expression. "Eh; he's Mattie. I left early because he and Francis were getting all horny and mouthy with each other-"

"It made you uncomfortable?"

Alfred laughed quietly and- what sounded like- nervously. "I just wish, sometimes, that I had someone like he has Francis, y'know?"

I nodded small, my lips rising in a small smile. "Yeah..." _Like how I wish to have you..._ Alfred was in his usual bomber jacket with a plain shirt and those shorts that look like jeans. He had Texas on, and his eyes had a spark in them from the reflection of the sun and the water reflecting the streams of light. I don't know what I've been drinking, or what I've been taking, but there's something different about Alfred. It wasn't physical appearance; he looked the same externally, and it was a bit cooler, so of course he'd wear something a bit more appropriate for the weather. It wasn't his voice; that was as loud and American and normal as ever.

Was it...

...

...

...

Was it the fact that our eyes were perfectly locked for what felt like a millennium?

...

Maybe that was it...

...

Well fuck.

A blush crept up to my cheeks; I could see the same occurring to Alfred, but we both refused to break eye contact. His blue watched my eyes, hopping from one to the other, as if to compare which was greener (both are dull, so it doesn't matterftyui THEY ARE NOTYH shush up-[][[! 2 THEY ARE A BEAUTIFUL EMERALDFGHJKL get out of here!). (Ugh...annoying computer-stealing gits.) I was doing the same, so I figured Alfred was mimicking my movements. I could stay like that forever, staring at his eyes, the rest of the world going by us in a rush as we sat here on the fountain in Piccadilly Circus, just each other, always...

But that could never happen.

He didn't love me like I love him.

I cleared my throat once I realized it was _too_ long that we had been staring at each other, and turned my head to look away. Alfred did as well, his face probably as red as mine.

Endearing, handsome git...

"S-so," I cleared my throat again and shuffled in place, "I was thinking we could maybe take a walk around London. O-or if you want, we can go back to Hyde Park. There's a large tree there that we could relax under."

Alfred laughed and smiled. "We can walk around if you like. I miss seeing the sights, y'know?"

I smiled back at him. "Of course." I was hoping I would be able to do this again; the two of us, back before we had our big argument in 1991, would go sight-seeing around any town, city, village, harbor- anything on and off the map, even! If it was in England (not like that) or in America (perverted gits), we were there, taking pictures, talking, enjoying the other's company. Times like those, I miss with him, where we didn't have to worry about being seen by another nation or, during the era of the war in Vietnam, a phone call requiring Alfred, or the like. It was normal for the two of us to be seen with one another, joking around, smoking, drinking. Now, it was strange to see the two of us at a close proximity, like the one we were in right now.

But honestly, I don't give a fuck about what other nation sees us, or what they say about Alfred and I. We're rebuilding a previously-shattered relationship. That's all there is to the situation. Let the other wankers decide what to believe and what not to believe.

* * *

"Do you know how many tissue boxes I bought for the Doctor Who season finale?"

"Do you know how long I cried for?"

"Forever?"

"I can't explain my heartbreak. Just...they didn't deserve to go that way."

"I know. It must suck, though, y'know? Havin' ta say good-bye to a good friend like that to be with your lover..."

"Yeah... Here's a question for you: favorite enemy."

"Daleks! I like their voices and they can rise from disaster and form an entire army from one Dalek. Plus, they're like giant, moving, salt and pepper shakers."

"...that has got to be one of the most ridiculous reasons I have ever heard to like an antagonist."

"Well, who's your favorite?!"

"The Weeping Angels. They kill you without really taking away your life. They send you to another time period, another year, so they can take away whot years you would have had and use it as energy. They're basically leeches, yes, but it's probably the way that I would like to die- i-if I were human."

"Good! You almost scared me with that last part, _ahahahahaha_!"

"Sorry for that. I don't want to die, but if I were, I'd like to be certain I'm still living...just not in my time period."

"That actually doesn't sound too bad."

"Thank you. Most Whovians find me insane when I say this."

"Really? Wow... Humans these days."

"They've lost their minds."

"Ooh! Okay, new question! Favorite Doctor!"

"Bloody hell, you like difficult questions... Mmm, because it's such a hard decision, I would say it's a tie between Four, Ten, and Eleven."

"Okay, how the hell are we just now starting to become friends again?!"

"Git, don't hug me!"

"But those are my favorites too! I got myself a really long stripy scarf, a brown trench coat, and a bowtie and fez just for when I watch it!"

"Alfred Jones, I believe you've surpassed me as one of the biggest, most nerdy Whovians I have ever met."

"WHOOHOO!"

"Then again, I did hijack the trench coat that David wore, as well as Jack's coat and a bowtie that Matt sent me his first season."

"..."

"Heheh; jealous much, luv?"

"Hells yes I'm jealous! Like, the actual ones that they used?!"

"Mhm."

"...C-"

"No, I'm not giving them away as a late birthday present."

"...Th-"

"And no, I will not give them to you for Christmas."

"..."

"..."

"Don't be surprised when they go missing, then."

"I will banjax you if you steal them!"

""AAAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHA!"

* * *

"Amelia."

"Astrid."

"Davros."

"Sontaran."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I win again, Alfred!"

"No you don't! That's cheating!"

"Hahaha! It is not!"

"Yeah it is because you're British so you know it like the back of your hand!"

"If you want to play again, just ask."

"Doctor."

"Raxacoricofallapatorius."

"Slitheen."

"New Earth."

"Help."

"Plead."

"Dalek."

"K-9."

"..."

"Losing again, Alfred dear?"

"Earth!"

"Hearts."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I'm afraid you're out of luck, Alfred."

"No, wait, shush, Slikeen!"

"Whot?"

"Jackie Tyler called the Slitheen that."

"True... I suppose that counts... Nightmares."

"Shadow."

"Who."

"..."

"I win again~"

"Noooooo!"

* * *

"Heyyy, it's Churchill! HI WINSTON!"

"..."

"He was an awesome P.M. for you, Artie. He just seemed like he fit the part, y'know? Always smelled like smoke, though. Then again, who is Winston Churchill without a cigar, right? Ahahahahaha!"

"..."

"...dude, I was just joking. I didn't mean for you to take offense"

"...hm? Sorry, Al. I was just thinking about something..."

"...what's it about?"

"...has FDR ever talked about me?"

"...wait, huh? Where is this coming from?"

"I'm serious. Has he ever mentioned or talked about me to you? Not in a bad way, just...well, you know how those two were. They were so close and always gossiping about you and I like schoolgirls. They wanted us together more than I...w-well, almost more than Germany and Italy want each other..."

"Uh-huh..."

"...well did he?"

"..."

"...I take that as a yes."

"W-well...yeah. Of course he did. FDR always said how you have a personality that balances me out and how you present yourself even though you're not as strong as you used to be, a-and...how I should be together...with you...a-as a couple, not just friends... B-but he liked us as friends! He said we complimented each other, and he said how...h-how he thinks you're attractive and handsome and what I'd like to see and yeah...he liked us...as a...c-couple..."

"..."

"...did I offend you?"

"No, I'm just thinking..."

"O-oh...about what...?"

"Just..."

"..."

"*sigh* It's nothing."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, I've forgotten."

"Arthur-"

"Come on, we don't have much time to waste-"

"Arthur."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I'm not moving until you tell me."

"...Alfred-"

"And it looks like it's about to rain... I know you won't leave me in this weather."

"..."

"..."

"If you really want to know..."

"..."

"...I was thinking about whot it would be like if we were together...in that way..."

"Oh..."

"Yes..."

"...I was thinking about whot it would be like if we were together...in that way..."

"Oh..."

"Yes..."

"...w-well...I-I-I still think about my independence...y'know, why I gained it, 'n stuff..."

"..."

"...can we, um..."

"..."

"...c-can we talk about that? I mean me gaining my ind-"

"No."

"..."

"I don't want to talk about that."

"O-okay, I understand..."

"..."

"Um...what was the other thought...that you were thinking about, I mean..."

"It was...I can't remember now..."

"Arthur..."

"I apologize for bringing up such topics. I'll leave now-"

"No!"

"..."

"...I-I mean...you can't. Not like this...w-we can talk about..."

"About..."

"A-about the Olympics! Like the stadium! A-and the Ceremonies, and...oh, and the one hundred and four hundred meters! I'm entering in those! Yao is, too, though, and he's really good so he'll probably win. And the soc- football tournament we're holding, right? Against Francis and the Bad Touch Trio? That'll be fun!"

"..."

"..."

"...I'm sure it'll be very close, you and Yao. You're both athletically talented when it comes to swimming."

"Hahaha! Yeah, but I'm sure I'll beat him- I'm the hero! And the heroes always win!"

"Heh; of course you are, Alfred."

"More than you are~"

"Ow! Get back here, you git, that's not funny!"

"AAAAHAHAHAHA!"

* * *

Alfred Jones...

...

...

...

I am in love.

I am in love with Alfred Jones.

I don't care what anyone else has to say.

And there is nothing that you can do or say that will change me.

* * *

Alfred and I walked, somehow, around the majority of London. We went to the Tower, and he wanted to "party-crash the political, uptight people who always look like they have dicks up their ass, ahahaha!"- also known as, going to Parliament, the House of Commons. We had lunch in a quaint little pub, Alfred dragged me to the Gherkin, or the 30 St. Mary Axe downtown, although really, to him, it was just the "big-ass shiny Easter egg building", no matter how many times I corrected him that it was nowhere near that name. I was forced to go to what Alfred called "London bridge", which turned out to be the Tower Bridge. But I did show him London Bridge as he loudly sang the nursery rhyme (and threatened to scream to the world that we were dating if I didn't, and although we both blushed at his statement, I secretly didn't mind if he did so, but I sang along with him anyway).

His voice is very nice.

He thinks mine is nicer, since there are so many great artists from my side of the pond.

Our voices work very well together, though.

...

In other words, I had a very pleasant and enjoyable time with him.

...

Yes, I know, I know what you're probably saying. I was expecting it to go all wrong, I was saying that it would be a failure, I had thought that we both would be fighting.

I get it.

And it didn't go that way so bugger off.

Bloody fucking wankers.

* * *

"Stop bloody moving, we're almost there!"

"Dude, I don't know what's happening! Stop!" Alfred squealed in laughter as I pinched his side. "Stop it!"

"Then stop moving!"

"But the floor is moving and I don't like this!"

"Oh hush, Al, it's almost over."

"Well, can I look now?" He tried to remove my hands from where I had covered his eyes, glasses and all (my hands conveniently shrouded over Texas, thank God) but I stopped him. Bloody hell, how did he get so impatient?!

"Stop cheating or else I won't show you!"

"Just show meeeee!"

"Fine, then! Here!" My hands retreated from covering his eyes, and he blinked in shock. "Here we are."

"Whoa..."

I couldn't help but smile at Alfred's reaction to the sight of London from the very top of the London Eye. I had covered his eyes and forced him to accept it until we were at the top, where I then presented him the view of my capital.

Alfred walked as far as he could forward, pressing a hand against the glass as if he could touch it if he reached a bit further. "Arthur, this is..."

I stood beside him, waiting for him to say something absurd or disgusting to me about me. Specifically my eyebrows. He hadn't stopped pulling or teasing them today, the wanker. If his Nantucket wasn't an erogenous zoenw DON'T MENTION THARTYHJ ALFRED STOP IT

...

Ignore the rude git.

"I really can't...describe it."

Well that was certainly unexpected. "Beautiful sight, isn't it?" I smiled.

"More than beautiful. It's like..." He chuckled, light and gentle, and glanced over at me. "It fits you. It's your capital, your heart, and...i-it's really fucking nice." By now, his cheeks were red and he was glaring away in embarrassment. I couldn't help but laugh quietly at his slightly awkward, nervous behavior. He was foolishly perfect when he acted like this.

"Don't fret, I understand whot you're saying." Goddamn it all to fucking hell, I want to hold his hand so fucking much why can't I just do that-

"U-um," he cleared his throat, and pointed towards 30 St. Mary Axe. "What's that called again? The finance center Easter egg-shaped building...thingy..."

"Heh; just call it the Gherkin. It's easier to remember."

"The Gherkin..."

I smiled; his accent, a mixture of the regions from across the pond blending in his voice depending on the sound, it made everything sound so fresh and new and beautiful. He could say "Ahthur" or "Artha" one minute, and then slip out with "y'all" (is that even a word? Oh bloody hell I hope not) or accentuate the vowel sounds, or first syllable, of a word, or pronounce the first hard-sounding consonant (stop it). It was cute. The way he said "Gherkin", he dragged out the first syllable like a southerner and then shortened the second like a Northeasterner as if there was no "i" there.

"Looks really new."

"It wasn't always there."

Alfred looked at me in curiosity. "Really? What was there before?"

...

He must not remember.

Thank God. I don't want him to remember the Baltic Exchange bombing, what happened to those three who lost their lives or those over ninety people with injuries, or me, buried under rubble and debris from the bomb. The IRA, thankfully, is around less today in the fashion that they were years ago, but that was one of their most devastating travesties. America and the other nations didn't find out about what happened until the next week at the World Meeting; I was somewhat better but Will went in my place while Charlie took care of me. We may always argue, but I know somewhere, in their vulgar insides, they hold more love for me than either of us know about. I know I do. I might not have gotten out so easily from the rubbish on top of me if it weren't for them...

...

I haven't always been thankful for my siblings, but...

...

Nowadays...

...

I definitely am.

* * *

_"Arthur! Arthur Kirkland!"_

_"..."_

_"ARTHUR!"_

_"..."_

_"Bloody fucking Christ, A'tha! Ya nearly stopped me heart!"_

_"Don't worry abou'tit, Mags, I got it, just get A'tie on a stretcher!"_

_"Ow..."_

_"Are ye alright? Nah, that's a stupid question. How are ye feelin'?"_

_"I can't feel anyfing..."_

_"We got ya, Artie, don't worry. You'll be feelin' everything s-__"_

_"Who the bloody hell did this t'ya."_

_"..."_

_"..."_

_"A'thur. Tell me."_

_"...I..."_

_"..."_

_"...R-"_

_"Stop, A'tie. Y'don't need t'finish. We know who they are."_

_"Fuck, Maggie, I've told you-"_

_"Shut yer trap, Charles, they're fuckin' stubborn shites, they don't want to!"_

_"Don't blame Margaret...she hasn't done...anyfing wrong..."(**1**)_

_"Hear a bit of the Cockney comin' out, eh babby bruther? Ye just relax for now."_

_"I'm going to fuckin' kill th'bastards, as soon as I see 'em-"_

_"William..."_

_"...I won't leave ye. Not even for a lil bit."_

_"He needs his doctor."_

_"Very good, Charles, what else would'ya like ta so obviously point out?!"_

_"Ma'gret, he's just sayin'."_

_"All of ye, be quiet. Yer not makin' it any easier for A'thur."_

_"..."_

_"Yer gonna be alright, A'tie. I promise. It'll be alright."_

_"Thank you..."_

* * *

"Arthur."

Alfred's gentle fingers on my shoulder brought me from the brief remembrance of a nightmare back to reality. "Hm?"

"Isn't that where the Baltic Exchange building used to be?"

...

I didn't answer him.

I couldn't answer him.

I couldn't find the words.

...

I only nodded solemnly and slowly, staring down at the reflection of the Eye on the Thames. I didn't know where else to look, or what to say. It was almost as if my brain was on pause, in place and still and unmoving, oblivious to the fact that there was an American staring at me and waiting for a verbal response. If I could, I would answer him properly. If we were dating, or at least closer than we were before, I would have embraced him and hid my face away. If we were dating, I would be holding his hand and loving every single fucking moment with him because that's when I'm happiest. That's what I love, what I desire, what I live for, what I go out to do, to hope for every day when no one else wants to be around the grumpy Brit with dull eyes and large eyebrows.

If I could be his boyfriend, his lover, his best friend, I most likely would not be here, telling you who choose to listen to me.

...

And I would have dreamed more or told myself what accomplishments we could reach or some other piece of sappy shite...

...

But it's hard to do that when the person you're dreaming of and telling yourself what accomplishments we can reach or other pieces of sappy shite when the very person you're thinking about intertwines your fingers and presses your palms together and squeezes your hand gently in comfort.

...

It is very difficult.

...

"I'm sorry," he whispered gently. "I'm so sorry." I could almost feel his arm rise to wrap around me, then hesitate, stay in place, and then lower back down to his side.

I smiled sadly; this sweet, sweet boy, always feeling sympathy for the less fortunate, always comforting someone no matter what your relationship may be, always wanting someone to smile and be who he knows them to be and not the frowning, depressed shell that he sees. Why could I not have him?! "You don't have to be sorry," I murmured to him so that the rest of the crowd in our pod didn't hear us. "I know whot happened but I can't remember my predicament, save for that date. It happened a long ago...it was twenty years ago in April."

Alfred only seemed to become sadder. I knew what he was thinking; I could see it in those sky blue eyes of his, a sadness that had been there for ten years, eleven in September. I could see the question lingering on his face, like he wanted to answer it extremely, but he didn't know how to word it without bringing offense to me. He started, quietly, "It wasn't..." but he stopped; he didn't have to finish. We both knew what he was talking about.

"It wasn't al-Qaeda, no."

An obvious, visual relief washed over him and he let out a breath. If I had told him yes, I think he would have personally jumped on a plane and flew himself to the Middle East and hunt every one of them down.

...

I don't think I would have minded either way.

We stood in silence for a long while, eyeing London from the Eye, quietly keeping our hands together as we slowly moved back from the top to the bottom again. I was a bit relieved that we were leaving, finally, that we could finally move and not stay in the crammed space.

He still hadn't let our grip slip.

Maybe that was why the little old English grandmother had disturbed us from our quiet as soon as we were out of the pod.

"Excuse me, young men," she stated politely, gathering our attention with her sweet-sounding voice and her slightly hunched posture. "If you do not mind me bothering you for a moment."

"Not at all, m'am," I smiled at her, Alfred answering her in a loud and boisterous grin. There was something about the elderly that made me ponder how I was so old yet looked under twenty-five. She was a small thing, with her wrinkled skin and her clothing you would expect her to wear, with a shock of a head of snow atop her head. She looked well for her age; perhaps early to mid-seventies, I would say.

"I won't take long, dearies," her lips raised in the form of a small grin, "I just wanted to say that in all my years of living on this earth, I have never seen a cuter couple than you two."

...

...

...

What.

"I-I-I...whot?" My face burned harshly, and any capability to speak was lost. I looked at Alfred for an explanation, but he gave one equal to mine: shocked, words loss, embarrassed. It was clear we had the same thought:

What?!

The old lady chuckled at our reactions. "I remember my son when he told me he preferred men. I didn't like the thought or the idea, at first, but I grew to like it. He and his partner- well, now husband- they are such a cute pair. But I have to say, I think you two may have defeated that feat."

"W-w-we're not dating!" I shook my head, trying to will away the goddamn blush that covered my fucking face, _what the fuck Arthur get a hold of yourself!_

Alfred nodded in agreement with my statement. "Y-yeah, we're just good friends."

"Very good friends."

"Great friends."

"Yes."

"...best friends..."

I blushed at his comment. I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was too. I was good with calling us great friends, but best friends...

I'm glad _he_ at least thinks we are at that stage.

The woman doesn't seem too convinced, and smiled at us with a shake of her head. "I know romance, my dears, and I see it in both of you. You don't have to hide away from one another; you both share the same feelings."

"W-we're just friends, though-" "We're not...no, we don't-"

"It's the classic love story, isn't it? The British Gentleman and the American Yank, fallen in love but don't even know it." She patted my shoulder. "I'm a very old woman, dearie, and I know love when I see it."

I wanted to protest, say we weren't a bloody couple and that we weren't even close to dating, but before one of us could even say a word, she was gone, leaving both of us confused and embarrassed.

"What the fuck was that about?" Alfred whispered, turning me around so that we can face each other. He definitely looked just as embarrassed as I felt.

"I-I-I don't know," I responded at the same volume shakily. Honestly, I couldn't think of any words to say for there was nothing to speak of. She had basically seen my truth, but I didn't know about Alfred's. And I certainly was not going to tell Alfred what I believed of the situation; I'm not ready to express my feelings for him just yet. "Perhaps she was confused. Old ladies definitely get confused...yeah?"

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that sounds believable enough." I wondered if he was saying that more for his benefit than for ours. "B-but I can see why she said it, though..."

Oh bloody hell, was it that obvious I held feelings for him? If the elderly woman could see it, did America notice it too?! No, of course not, Arthur, don't worry so much, even though this could be true. You just need to relax, take a quiet breath to calm yourself, slowly, gently, yes, don't gulp too loudly, you can do this, you're the United bloody Kingdom.

Hoping he didn't say what I believed he would say, I answered Alfred; "Oh?" I questioned as calmly as I could. "And that is..."

"W-well...," America hesitated, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish chuckle, "we, um...we haven't let go of each other's hands yet."

I looked down at our hands to see that he was right; our palms were still touching, our fingers intertwined and tautly together. It was obvious they would not be moving away from one another soon. My cheeks blazed even brighter than before; so that was why she had said something about us being a couple. We definitely acted like a bloody pair.

"I-I don't think it's that big of a deal," he pointed out. "I mean, we've held hands before, right?" I felt like he only stated the words to remind us that we're not dating, we're only close friends, extremely close, best friends even, that just so happened to hold hands to comfort one another.

Though it definitely didn't seem like it...

I shrugged. "Not in a while, at least..."

"In the last few decades? Sure we've had!"

I quirked an eyebrow up. What the bloody hell was the boy talking about? "When?"

My statement seemed to stop him in his tracks, for any confidence that Alfred had held was wiped from his face, a state similar to an animal stopped in his tracks due to a sound detected nearby, a look of desperation to come up with a lousy time where we had held hands when in actuality we hadn't. The nineties weren't our best year friendship-wise. From the fifties to the eighties, yes, but once 1991 turned the corner, it was nothing but a spiral downwards.

I simpered after a minute or so of America looking internally for an excuse. "Exactly," I murmured, loosening my grip only slightly. Alfred panicked and tightened his grasp, grabbing my hand with now both sets of palms and fingers.

"Don't do that," he pouted. "I don't want this to be a shitty rest of the day."

"It's not going to be."

"Arthur." Alfred glared at me over the top of his glasses with such a seriousness, you would have never thought he was the friendly, kind-hearted nation the world either liked or hated. "I only have a few hours left. Matt wants me to help him with something and I promised him I would after our date."

"Can't his lover do it?" Personally, I didn't want What's-His-Name-Face to get involved in this unless I, Alfred, or both of us decided to let him. He could stay over in the corner with Frog and they can fuck each other for as long or as loud as they want.

"He's with Antonio."

"Of course he bloody is..."

"Artie, please, don't be difficult."

"I'm not being difficult!"

"Don't yell, either."

"I'm not yelling!"

"Yes you are."

"Oh shut up, who asked you, you're nothing but a stupid, immature br-"

Fuck, no, don't finish that statement.

...

Alfred and I were silent.

Very, very silent.

...

Then again, who wouldn't be after what I just said...

...

...

...

The apology I wanted to give him was lodged in my throat. I didn't know what to do but stand there in silence, guiltily looking up at Alfred, hoping he would spare me and not jump to anger, like I knew he would. I wouldn't blame him, but that doesn't mean that it wouldn't be nice.

Alfred seemed to be deep in thought, looking from me to the ground. His hold on my hand had tightened to the point where it was quite uncomfortable, but it was nothing I couldn't handle, and I certainly didn't want to let go. I wanted to leave, yes, I wanted to hide my face, hide myself, from him so he wouldn't have to suffer...so much I wanted to do yet so conflicted in order to accomplish.

We must have stood there for a few minutes, maybe five or ten, in reality but what felt like days to me, before America finally spoke in a quiet voice.

"You...didn't mean to say that...right?"

I managed a nod, the only movement I was capable of at the current place and time, and a quiet "Yes", the only sound I was able to create without difficulty.

"You...didn't want to say that..."

It took a few breaths as I lowered my anger down until it was nothing but a simmering and easy line before responding back; "I did not mean to say that to you."

"And..." He sucked in a breath of air, his cheek suctioned in with the inhale. He looked at me, as if expecting me to read his mind and tell him what he wanted to hear.

"I'm...s..." Oh fuck, Alfred, please, don't make me suffer through such a simple and stupid line. "I'm sor..." Alfred, please, you know I can't say those words, even when I raised you! "A thousand pardons, my dear friend," I finally decided to say, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. I needed something. "I did not mean to say the line, despite the fact that I stopped myself from fully completing it. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my horrible soul."

...

Ahh, there it is: that warm, bright smile he always gave when he was satisfied with something. "That's good, even though your soul isn't horrible," he chirped happily now, as if he wasn't just solemn and completely serious. I smiled back at him; I'm thankful he forgives others easily. I'm thankful he even thought of it. "So, now what?" He grinned as we once again started to walk, swinging our intertwined hands back and forth.

I didn't let go of his hand the entire time.

* * *

Like Alfred had said before, Matthew had needed him for something that only he could help him with. I didn't mind; the Olympic organizers had been trying to contact me for the past hour to gather my opinion on something. Bloody wankers, they know I'm on a da...o-o-on a day out! Yes, a _day_ out. Not a _date_. Well, yes, a _date_, but not _that_ date. No, something completely different from _that_ date. The _number_ date. _That's_ what I mean. Bugger off.

So, eventually, the two of us, still hand in hand and still happily enjoying one another's company, ended up in front of Buckingham Palace; Alfred had wanted to visit Queen Elizabeth again, so I brought him for tea time (after making sure it was alright with her, of course). We had a delightful time, actually; the bloody Yank said it was because I wasn't cooking, and Elizabeth had agreed to something along those lines, saying how even Holly and Willow, her Corgis, would have eaten it. (**2**) And then of course the two have to go off and chat like they used to, talking of my cooking and how horrid it is when it bloody isn't sodding gits, and how beautiful London's gotten- Alfred even tried to get a few comments from Her Majesty for the Olympics, but she's known him for years and still doesn't fall for his tricks. Poor boy.

Well...only a little.

HEY!

ALFRED, STOP IT, GO AWAY, I'M WRITING!

...

Again, with the Yankee gits...

Anyway, we both found ourselves at 17:00, in front of the gates of Buckingham Palace, with Alfred trying to get the "dudes with the funny hats who never smile" to laugh (although my siblings and I can easily murmur a stupid remark and have them holding back snickers and laughs). Of course, since he always tried this trick with them, it didn't work out like he expected it to.

"You're never going to make them smile, Alfred," I rolled my eyes at his behavior- doing that strange dance from the Korean pop artist, Psychic, or...Psych? Psy!

...right?

Sod off, wankers.

"But I _neeeeed_ to," he whined, looking at me desperately. "It's on my bucket list!"

I snorted; "You'll have other opportunities, Al, trust me. Plus, it's bloody impossible unless you've had experience in the past."

"You try, then." He sulked with his arms crossed in front of his chest, glaring at his feet in anger.

"Ten pounds says I can't get them to smile or laugh on the first try."

Alfred's mood switched back to eager. "Deal!"

I stared at the Royal Guardsman, thinking of the jokes that I knew that he would get. It wasn't very hard; there were several that I could tell with a blink of an eye and someone would probably "die of laughter", as the funniest joke in the world goes. (**3**) Some would say that my humor is dry or just not there, but I say you just don't get the Brits like I do. Probably because you're just another bleeding wanker and I am the United bloody Kingdom and you are a commoner. So there.

"Think I can make you laugh?" I smirked at the guard.

Not even a glance at me, like he was trained.

I laughed, a bit snootily to say the least, but what the hell, who's judging me?

"I slept like a log last night."

Nothing.

"Woke up in the fireplace."

A particularly loud snicker was forced out of him, followed by a smile that he swallowed away quickly. I laughed and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good work, lad, you've earned me ten pounds from an American fool."

Alfred had been laughing at the guard's reaction, but once he realized what I had said, his expression changed and he followed after me like a loyal dog, one that was upset and terribly, obviously confused. "What do you mean I owe you ten pounds?! I don't owe you nuthin'!"

"First of all, it's 'I don't owe you _anything_', you know better. Second, we made a bet that if I could make the guard laugh, you would pay me ten pounds."

"Wha-"

"Which, if I'm not mistaken, is only fifteen American dollars."

Alfred pouted; I resisted the urge to laugh at his expression. "That's not fair," he mumbled, the rest going unheard by my ears.

"I could lower it so that you could pay me ten American dollars-"

"Yes!"

"But then that'd still only be about six pounds."

"Ughhhh Iggy, come on, make up your mind!"

I hummed in thought, and Alfred nearly protested again when we both stopped and looked straight ahead of us, between the gates and the steps, a man with a sleek black sportscar that made me surprised and furious and all happiness leave from my mind. I wanted to scream, to hide, to tell him to go away, to leave me to Alfred in peace. But I knew that he would never allow me to do such things. I wanted so desperately to stay with my beloved American; fuck the Olympics. It's not like I could ever top Yao's performance in 2008. All that matters to me is Alfred, and only ever Alfred, even if the Olympics organizer spots me and starts to head towards my way whilst chatting on the phone.

"That's one of the organizers for the Olympics," I sighed, trying but most likely failing to hide my sadness. Alfred was just as disappointed as I was, it was clearly present on his features. I turned to him in sorrow. "I didn't realize the time...I was going to meet them after tea time."

"Oh." Alfred rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "That's alright..."

"I'm dearly sor... My most sincere apologies, my friend." I took my hand in his, and squeezed it, forcing a smile to my face to cheer him up. He looked at me, but he didn't seem very convinced. "It'll be alright, I promise."

He started to speak, but then stopped and looked away.

"Yes...? You're going to speak?"

"No, I..." He opened his mouth a few times. "I just...I had a really nice time, and..."

I waited for him to finish his statement, probably with a thank you in return.

But I didn't get a thank you.

At least, I didn't get one by words.

...

When I was least expecting it...

...

He gently leaned forward and...

...

He kissed me.

...

Gently and carefully yet lovingly and quickly, as if I would break, on the lips.

...

A blush spread to his face and he started to stammer out something, but stopped, took a breath, and gave the most beautiful grin I had ever seen.

...

"I had a really fun time with you, Arthur."

"Me too, Alfred...I-I had a really fice- fun time with you...it was nun...nice!"

_Holy fucking shit, Arthur, get a few words right at least, this is **your** fucking **language**!_

Alfred only grinned that joyous grin and waved as he started to leave, waving enthusiastically as he did. I did the same, smiling through my nerves before he turned back around the correct way, leaving me with a few glances now and then and a warm smile.

...

...

...

Fuck.

Alfred Jones kissed me.

_Me._

Arthur Kirkland.

The fucking United Kingdom!

...

I...

I haven't felt this happy in years...

Alfred Jones...

**Notes:**

**(1):** _Margaret Kirkland, or Ireland, is basically her full name, but she hates how it sounds so she introduces herself as Maggie. She only uses Margaret for official uses because she's a Kirkland. Nuff said~_

**(2): **_I'm not English, but I looked this up and I believe Holly and Willow are the names of her Corgis. If you are English and know this or just so happen to have knowledge on this, please tell me what the Corgis' names are and I'll change them :)_

**(3):**_ If you get this joke, we're besties now :J X'D_


	11. Don't Start or Get In Fights: Failed

**LATE UPDATE WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW**

**I'm sorry. I really am. I pretty much broke my hard drive FOR MY NEW COMPUTER so it had to be replaced but now it's fine and writer's block and just plan laziness have been keeping me from updating. But I got it now! :D And if you're still intrigued by this, then I love you. Let's be friends. We can buy tacos. Which means that I might just buy one and then I'll be like "hay friend get me a tacoh plz" and you'll be like "noh" and I'll cry and then buy seven because I like tacos. And then when I have my IBS issues from the tacos, I'll cry and be like "IT WAS WORTH IT".**

**Yo quiero Taco Bell.**

**So, I don't own anything but the plot. There are a few headcanons that I have that are in here, like a few FACE sections, but other than that, I think there aren't many.**

**Also, if you're still interested, thank you :) I really appreciate you staying- still- after a small hiatus- for this story, and I really do love every one of you guys who review and take the time to read this story. Just thank you :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 10:

Don't Start or Get In Fights: Failed

_"Engwaaaaaaand!"_

_One could never be prepared for a hug given to you by Alfred. He had more strength on him naturally than all of Europe's nations' armed forces combined, and he could probably resist more than the average country. At his young age, he was still discovering his strength, and at times he couldn't control it. It didn't matter to me; it was too precious to scold. Even though it could get a bit painful or unexpected at times, it was from Alfred, and it was as precious as his smile._

_I readied myself for the ball of energy, laughing as I scooped him into my arms gently. "Be careful, luv," I laughed, pushing back a strand of his hair. "Last time you ran that fast, you scraped your knee."_

_"I know, but I'm just so happy to see you!" He grinned with a giggle, and wrapped his arms around me to nuzzle against my face. I must have been the luckiest nation on our planet; I had been in the fight to own said colony, and everyone believed I wouldn't have him. And yet here I find myself, with him in my arms. I was with the New World, the "New Hope" as we called him. No one else could have him, ever. Now if I could just have his brother, I could have the perfect family that I never had._

_Francis was sitting in the nearby grandfather chair near the fireplace with Matthew resting against his shoulder. He was so small and petite in the smelly frog's hands; it still bewildered me how he and my loud and boisterous Alfred were brothers. Alfred and I had settled in the couch just across from them, he restless and wiggling in my lap before finally relaxing and sighing._

_"Glad you're comfy, little one," I smiled at him. He only giggled happily and impishly, as he always did when he knew what I was talking about one of his strange mannerisms, and he quickly went into a gentle snooze._

_"'e's precious," Francis grinned gently, gazing at the boy in my lap with adoration in his eyes._

_"And he's mine," I smiled, too dazed and attentive to Alfred to pay attention to anything else. It amazed me sometimes, how he was so quiet whilst sleeping, aside from the constant squirms to get situated, yet when he's awake, he neither stays quiet nor sits in one place for long. "It still amazes me I have the colony that everyone wanted."_

_Matthew had started to become fussy, so Francis stepped out of the room to calm him down. Alfred was a light sleeper, but he was easily awakened when his brother was in some sort of distress; Matthew was the same. It was amazing- and cute, in a way- that he could easily tell when he was in trouble. I admired the trait sometimes; they really were a perfect family, the two brothers..._

_I had always wanted a perfect family._

_..._

_Francis broke me out of my thoughts when he returned and sat in his chair again. Matthew was on his other shoulder, still sleeping yet peacefully once more. "Is he alright now?"_

"_Oui," Frog nodded with a sigh. "Il n'est qu'un cauchemar seulement." He looked over to his colony, and moved aside a lock of hair out of his face. "'e 'as been 'aving a multitude of zem as of late."_

"_That's strange," I commented. Poor lad; probably afraid of his caretaker. I should help him with that. "Do you know why that's happening? Has he been faced with any issues while you haven't been here?"_

"_Non. I always 'ave a villager zat watches him when I cannot write me on 'is current state. 'e says nozing 'as been wrong wiz 'im."_

"_Well, Matthew is very quiet. Perhaps he hasn't told anyone because he's afraid?"_

"_Per'aps...I will ask on ze morrow."_

_The two of us sat in silence for a while, neither comfortable nor wanting. I could easily see the worry in Francis' face. He had a love for younger children, and I felt a slight bit of guilt well up inside of me. I didn't want to question him on the small issue, though; he was too easy to read yet he never told me what was wrong with him, why he was in such a bad mood. Even though he and I were in a relationship, it was only to let out our sexual desires. We've done roleplay, light bondage, asphyxiation, some more bondage, extreme bondage...yet he can't tell me what's making him so worried or sad. He always has to tell those damn best friends of his over me. I haven't told him about my perfect family dream, for he already knows, but what's the point of being with him if he won't tell me anything? Do I really need something like this to fulfill such a need?_

"_What are you doing wiz Alfred in ze morning?" He asked, breaking the silence between us._

"_Probably our usual routine," I replied. "I'll be taking him for a walk with Patches after our morning meal."_

"_Mm..."_

"_You should bring Matthew with us; I'm sure he'll enjoy it. The scenery here is very nice."_

"_I will ask 'im when 'e awakens... Arzur, may I ask you somezing, cher?"_

_I looked at him in confusion. I didn't have a problem with it, but the question seemed a bit strained whilst being asked. "Yes, you may..."_

"_Do you ever ask Alfred if 'e would like to do somezing wiz you? Or do you not give 'im a choice?"_

"_...whot kind of fucking question is that?!" I snapped, quieting down when Alfred stirred slightly. "Of course I ask him! If he says no, I ask him whot he would like to do instead and we do that! I would never force him to do anything he doesn't want to!"_

_Francis stared at me in disbelief. "It does not seem to be zat way. Does 'e enjoy your strolls?"_

"_Yes, he was the one who asked me to take him for one in the first place, and eventually it became a daily event! Whot kind of nation do you think I am?"_

"_I fear zat in ze future, you will start controlling Alfred and restrict him so much zat he will eventually become un'appy and your bond will break."_

"_That's preposterous." Anger boiled inside of me, and my fist curled. Damn frog needed someone to teach him when to keep his mouth shut. "I would never do such a thing, even if my own people told me to. I can't. Alfred is too sweet to do those things to. And I'd bet you stand right by his side if you were to be right!"_

"_It is better zan standing wiz you. You are controlling and bloodthirsty, and I know you still dream of zat perfect family fantasy, and it is not going to 'appen. Not today, not ever. You must understand zat."_

"_Well if you were to side with Alfred, I'm sure Matthew would go right to me!"_

_I didn't realize Francis had grabbed my collar and pulled me towards him, Alfred and Matthew set aside for now, before I felt stubble against my cheek and a rough accent in my ear; "You leave Mathieu out of your games, anglais cochon. 'e does not need to get involved. And if you even try to take 'im away from me, I will fight you until I am sure zat I 'old 'im in my arms. I lost Jeanne to your 'ands; I will not lose anozer."_

_That morning, Francis and Matthew left to return up north, and we didn't hear from or see them for a long while. A few years later, when Alfred was the human age of twelve, I succeeded in reuniting the two brothers together. I had succeeded in creating my first perfect family. But I would go on to try several more times afterwards, eventually giving up at every failure and forming the Commonwealth of Nations._

_To this day, I still have that perfect family dream._

* * *

"So you have no idea why Alfred kissed me?"

"I don't."

"You don't know if he likes me or not."

"I don't know, Arthur."

"You, Canada, one of America's most trusted nations _and_ his brother, who shares the longest shared border with the bloody States, with the world's largest trading partners, do not know if the United States, the world's only superpower, likes me, the United bloody Kingdom."

"I don't know!...A-and if I did, I wouldn't be allowed to tell you. We swear an oath to all our secrets."

"So you two still do that, even when in your two hundred thirties?"

"Don't mention it, please..."

"Is _Angleterre_ making it uncomfortable for you, _cher?_"

"_Non, nous sommes bien, mais merci._ He just wants to know if Alfred likes him or not."

"_Je suis sûr que ton frère aime Arthur beaucoup_."

"Don't talk in your frog language, Frog, I can understand you quite perfectly."

"_Excusez-moi_, my conversation wiz _mon amour_ is none of your concern, _rosbif._"

I swear, one day that fucking Frog will be dead.

I had gotten myself early to Matthew's flat, something he had paid for himself so he didn't have to keep on spending money on a hotel room. Plus, it was a bit mandatory for my Commonwealth to have somewhere to stay in London. Matthew's was very nice and well-kept, thanks to me. It was rather luxurious, on his part, but I'm sure Frog had the executive decision in where he lived, probably because he refused to stay somewhere "disgusting and littered wiz English grime". Fuck you, fucking frog-face.

"I still don't see why he didn't tell you," I pointed out as soon as the Frog had left once more.

"I don't know," Matthew groaned, rubbing his eyes in agitation. "He probably forgot to tell me!"

"I hardly doubt he would; he saw you right as soon as he left."

"W-well maybe he was star-struck, or something, I don't know!"

"Hm. A shame, really." I took a sip of tea. "No matter whot you say to protect your secret, I still don't believe you."

"Arthur!"

Frog's fucking face peeked out behind the doorway with a smirk. "If you do not stop bozering _Mathieu,_ I will cook for you."

"Bite me," I glared. He smiled back at me in venom and returned to the kitchen. "And I'm not bothering you."

"Yes you are..."

"I'm just persistent as to whot I need to know."

"You don't need to know anything."

"And I won't stop until I get the desired reply."

"Just ask Alfred your fucking self."

I think Matthew was trying to say something without me hearing it. If he was, then he certainly failed at that last part, for my tea nearly went spewing all over the table. "Are you on bleeding _drugs_?!" I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "Do you even know how awkward that would bloody be?"

Matthew frowned. "Well if I knew anything, I wouldn't be able to tell you, so just ask Alfred yourself!"

"I can't ask Alfred a question like that!"

"What are we asking Alfred?"

I froze in place as he- with the blue eyes and bright smile and confident stride- walked over to us, sitting beside me and placing a plastic bag on the table.

"Arthur wants to know why you ki-"

"Why your kindness and generosity is the greatest part of your personality if mine is so bitter!" I intervened before Matthew could finish his sentence. Horrible save, that was a horrendous save, but it worked at least.

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed together, looking confused from me to his brother. "Huh?"

"Did you bring sweets?" I changed the subject (there's no way I'm letting Matthew grab a hold on the conversation) and rummaged through the bag Alfred had bought with him.

"I got stuff to make sundaes in there." Alfred leaned forward and reached a hand inside the bag to take the items out, placing them on the table in front of us. "I bought ice cream, whipped cream, hot fudge, uhh, sprinkles, some nuts. I figured France had bananas and cherries so I didn't bring 'em."

"I lost a cherry long ago, but I still 'ave a banana left," Frog laughed as he finally came back from the kitchen, putting the tray of tea, wine and biscuits on the table beside the ice cream supplies before sitting beside Matthew with a wink to me and Alfred. "If you know what I mean."

I knew exactly what the bloody frog was talking about and blushed. Alfred only tilted his head to the side in bewilderment with another "Huh? I don't get it."

"He's talking about sex, Alfred, you don't need to get it," I murmured, trying to look interested and occupied with the stuff Alfred had bought.

"I still don't- ohhhh...ohh..." Now he looked sheepish, and whispered; "I get it now."

...

Alfred, darling, I love you.

But really...how much dumber can you get, dear?

I'M NOT DUMB

GO AWAY ALFRED

OXYGEN HYDROGEN HELIUM NITROGEN GERMANIUM AMERICIUM URANIUOIKIJP

ALFRED STOP I'M ASKING FOR YOUR IMPUT LATER

AZQWSXEDCRFVTGYBHUNIJMOK,PL[.;]/'\

...

Ignore that. I'd take it out, but he'll probably just add it back in.

DAMN STRAIGHT

Alfred!

...

Anyways...

Frog laughed. "You, of course, know what zere is to know about, eh...sexual relations?"

"Pffff of course I do!" Alfred smirked, but the rise in his lips dissipated when he noticed me stealing a glimpse at him. "I've done it a few times..."

"So I've 'eard; Japan, Lithuania...and even _psychopathique_ Russia, _oui_?"

"Be quiet, Frog," I glared at him. "This isn't the time and place to talk about such things."

"Y-yeah!" The American responded back, cheeks red. He was probably embarrassed from having someone else fight his battles. Or he doesn't like hearing the truth about his sex life. Either way, I don't blame him. "So what if I have? It didn't mean anything! It was just to try it out!"

"Try what?" Frog pushed on.

"Nothing!"

"Leave him be, slimy fuckface!" I snapped.

"Francis, _s'il te pla__î__t,_ just stop," Matthew begged quietly.

The Frog shrugged; "I am just curious."

"Curiosity kills frogs, you know," I retorted to him.

"Didn't curiosity kill the cat, though?" Alfred inquired. (_I'm not going to comment on that..._)

"It also killed _anglais cochons._"

"Excuse me?" I stood up, ignoring Alfred's panicked hands to seat me again. "Would you like to repeat that?"

"Why, you can't understand your own language which you stole from ten zousand ozer languages?" Frog stood up as well.

"Not really, your fuckery was breathing too loud for me to concentrate. And I'm not the only one who's stolen languages! You and Spain and both Italy _and _Romano have such similar words, it's not even funny!"

"Like what?"

"Well, for instance, 'shit' as in you are a big pile of French frog shite swimming in other waste from amphibians, fish, and even humans while feeding and living in said water!"

A quiet "Ew" came from Alfred behind me, and I resisted the urge to glower back at him. Now was not the time for comments like that, and now was not the time to scold him for such things.

"And yet you even dare to call your distorted words a language?" Frog scoffed at me, smirking, a glint of mischief reflecting in his eyes. "You 'ave stolen words from nearly every single language spoken in Europe and beyond. You know _nozing_ of languages, Arzur, except for 'ow to copy zem and change zem to make zem your own."

...

I'll admit, I did steal a few words...

...a couple...

...most words...

...oh fuck it, my entire language is basically a compilation of other languages but some words are remade so that it's not entirely copying, but more like inspiration or maybe even the roots of certain words I don't bloody care and I don't bloody give a shit!

...

I'd never admit that to the frog, though. Are you serious? I would like to keep my dignity, thank you very much.

"You speak it, too!" I shot back at him.

"It is mandatory zat I do! I did not want to, but I 'ad to!"

"Because I've conquered and won wars against you so many times, you needed to have a way to communicate with my people to get whot you wanted! You were always thinking of _you_, of course, whot else is bloody new?! You can't think of anything else _but_ that! You couldn't even stop to think about Matthew!"

"Arthur-"

"And I'm not complaining when I say this, but I find it so ironic how you and your precious '_Mathieu_' can be so close yet when he was younger, you gave him up like he was nothing. You're lucky he didn't go into hands that harmed him, that he went to somehow who knew how to care properly for a child!"

"Arthur!"

"And further more-"

...

I don't remember what I said after that "And further more". I wish I did. It must have been a pretty good line only an arsehole like me could come up with.

Actually, now that I think about it...

...

I don't remember _anything_ after that.

What I do know is that I woke up- when did I fall on my back?- on the soft cushions of the couch- and when was I on the couch?- while curious and worried eyes of the sky stared down at me.

Holy fuck is Alfred hot from this angle.

And beautiful.

And a bit dorky, the way his glasses are sliding down his nose since he's looking downward.

...

Cute little shite.

"Ho' shit, Arthur, you almost made me have a heart attack!" He frowned, squeezing our hands where they were entwined, warm and loving.

"Sorry about that," I mumbled back, unable to raise my voice from distortion. Seriously, how the fuck did I end up here? My head throbbed something terrible: in the back, at my forehead, and especially around my left eye and cheek. "Whot the hell happened?"

"You got Francis really pissed off and he punched you in the face. And then Mattie hit him and had to take French fries outside on the balcony for a moment." Alfred's free hand brushed away a few strands of my hair out of my face. "You banged your head pretty bad against the armrest of the couch."

I groaned; oh joy, I've always wanted furniture engraved into my forehead. Bloody hell that sounds like fun! Listen to my utter and complete joy!

Don't. Because it's fake.

"It looks, eh, good." A cold suppressant that I just now realized was on my head was lifted up cautiously, and the American cringed before setting it down again. "Never mind..."

I simpered at him, redirecting his free hand against my cheek so that I could softly nuzzle into it. I was only slightly aware of what I was doing, but I didn't care if it was embarrassing or not. Alfred stammered in shock for a bit, but then quieted down. He just smiled, with his cheeks flush from sheepishness, as his thumb started to slowly and gently rub my cheek.

"You're warm," I whispered, smiling at him through half-dazed eyes.

"Heh; you're hot," he complimented back.

"You're hotter."

"Do you like that trait?"

"I _love_ that trait." I smiled. I liked the way his eyes had sparked at that little mention, how his smile graced his face and made him look too young but so beautiful. "Like is a very simple term. It only means a small fondness for something. 'Love', however...it has a much stronger meaning that we all define differently. I define it as something that only comes as one and true, and that everyone experiences in any way possible."

Alfred grinned. "You should be a philosopher." I laughed at his words; he sounded so quiet and secretive, like he didn't want the entire world to hear his words. "Speaking of love-"

"Alfred, is Arthu- o-oh, crap, I'm sorry!"

Matthew and Francis had reentered the room, the latter looking slightly guilty while his lover stood shocked in the doorway. Alfred and I only blushed, and he stood up straight, away from me to make it look less obvious (though that was near impossible) that our lips were about to touch the other's lips and something was about to go down though I think I may have over-thought that, I'm not sure yet.

As much as I hated it, Matthew looked like he was about to faint from realization of what was going to occur. I don't have a bloody clue as to what Alfred was going to say. I suspected it, but I didn't hear it. And if he was going to say what I think he was going to say...

...

Holy fucking shit.

Whatever that boy sees in me, it must be something he likes- especially considering the amazing- beautiful- breathtaking- _pleasant_ kiss.

"We weren't doing anything," Alfred explained to his brother, but Matthew still backed away without looking over at them.

"N-no, it's fine, we'll just leave! It's fine, Al!"

"Mattie-"

Alfred tried to stop his brother from leaving, but by the time he had gotten to the door, he was already gone, leaving me in confusion and pain, and America in puzzlement and irritation.

...

And it wasn't lovingly or uncaring like before. This time, the atmosphere was thick with a stuffy awkward feeling suffocating us both. I could tell Alfred didn't know what to do, and I was in too much pain to do anything else but lie there. And I didn't think he would know what to do either; had he ever been in this situation, where he wants to do something, perhaps romantic, but he cannot find the courage to do it because something completely abstract and unnecessary is blocking his way? Francis had mentioned Lithuania, Kiku, and even Ivan having sex with Alfred, had he ever been awkward with them? I knew only that he and Kiku had had sexual relations, but nothing more of the rest of that story and the two others. Had Alfred ever told them that they were beautiful, that they were dear to him? Had he ever...

...

Had he ever kissed them?

...

At some point in our lives, we may believe that we're in love, and it feels like the best thing on earth. But then there are terrible times, dreadful times, after that where reality crashes in on us and we question if we really loved them in the first place. I have done it plenty of times with nations that I now either loathe (as much as I hate to say it, fuckface Frog) or I am great friends with them (Lukas, Kiku, and a bit with Yao). I wonder if Alfred went through that. Or what if he's going through that now?

Am I dreaming of all of this? Was yesterday a dream?

Perhaps I never lost my list. Perhaps Alfred and I didn't decide on being friends. Perhaps Alfred and I never went out to the pub. Perhaps he never carried me home and got me in bed and let me sleep and let me say those embarrassing things. Perhaps we had never walked around London or Hyde Park. Perhaps none of those things had happened and I will wake up in my house in Liverpool to the melody of my older siblings arguing.

...

If all of that is true...

...

"Yo, Arthur!"

Alfred's urgent voice broke my troublesome thoughts, thankfully, and I glanced up at him. "Hm? I'm sorry, I was thinking."

"I can see," he softly smiled. I could feel my heart skip a few beats at the show of action. God fucking dammit he's beautiful. And dorky. And loveable. And absolutely precious.

I want him.

I want him so bad.

"I was fixin' to ask you, um, if you want, I can take you back home after we have breakfast." Alfred scuffled his feet shyly. "If you want to go home, that is. I could take care of you, and make you dinner, and...we can just chill..."

One would think that a person like Alfred would have little to no trouble offering things such as this. Unfortunately, every time he has asked me, he's been very awkward and nervous about it, as if I'll say no. Then again, it must be a bit difficult to be nice to me considering the history that we have. I'm not saying that it's a bother or anything. I'm just saying it's quite admirable and I can't help but seem to fall more in love with him the more that he does it.

And not like that, perverted wankers. I'd rather not scare my love interest off with something as ridiculous-sounding as that.

I wonder if he likes tying his partners up...

...

I'm digressing, aren't I? Terribly sorry about that; he would've probably dumped me if he had read this before...

...

Let's just get back to the actual story, shall we?

"You can just drop me off," I replied. "London isn't going out until later in the evening, and by then I should be fine." I smiled to reassure him and to rid his face of that ridiculous frown he was bearing. "But thank you for the offer."

There's the dorky smile I love. "No problem, dude! I want what's best for my friends- especially my best ones!" There was a light blush upon his cheeks, and a grin that was bright and friendly. The added combination made him look much younger than he actually was.

Either way he's still fucking handsome.

And mine.

* * *

Eventually, Francis and Matthew returned, holding hands as the Frog served us breakfast. It was okay, even though I ate every drop and had seconds and even made Alfred give me a bewildered look as to why I was eating so fast and so quiet, I didn't fucking like it, the Frog cooked it, but there was nothing else to eat so I had no choice. And I didn't lick the plate, my tongue just so happened to drag itself along the surface because it was there, nothing more.

I did not like his food.

**Yes you did**

Alfred.

...

I apologized to Matthew several times for my behavior. He was apologizing for letting his lover punch my eye and causing it to swell, even though he had nothing to do with that whatsoever, but he's been apologizing for ridiculous things since he was a child. I've become used to it

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" He asked for what seemed to be the thousandth time as I got in Alfred's (new) rented car.

I only smiled at him despite the slight stings of pain. "It's fine, Matthew, there's no need to apologize." _Really, your lover should be the one apologizing, but that's another story._

"If you say so..." Matthew didn't look very convinced, and I found my hand reaching out to grasp and squeeze his to reassure him. I used to do this when he was a young child and it had worked, and it still worked on him after all of these years.

"Everything's going to be alright. I promise you." I wasn't smiling this time, but I wanted to show him that I was alright, everything was going to be alright...he had his lover by his side, someone he's loved since he was a small child...

He would always have Francis...

As Alfred said goodbye to his brother and we drove off, I noticed something as I looked back at Matthew and Frog standing on the steps leading to their apartment. Francis seemed serious and seldom, no smile or the like, and whatever he seemed to be telling his lover only had Matthew angry- which was a rare sight in itself, so whatever was happening was most definitely very bad. "I wonder whot's happening with them..."

Alfred glanced into the rearview mirror and shrugged. "Dunno; I'll ask when I get back," he replied, and then fixed his gaze on me. "Are you sure you won't need anyone?"

I nodded. "I'll be able to take of myself, thank you. Like I said, London will be there until the evening, and by then I should be fine." I wasn't going to tell him that I was expecting Mathias and Gilbert for the rest of the night. He didn't really need to know that I was going to get wasted tonight. No thank you; I'm afraid that'd be a bit too much for both of us to handle. Plus, I have the strangest feeling that if I were to tell him, he would act like a worried parent and stay either way and supervise me while Denmark and Prussia were over, and I feel like we wouldn't have any fun at all.

"Okay..." His hands grasped the steering wheel tighter than normal, so much that his fingers were starting to form indents. I felt bad for not being honest with him, and that he was worried so much, but...

"I just worry over my friends sometimes."

Sometimes, decisions you do not want to do must be made so that the results are satisfactory.

...

Wait, what?

"Whot did you say?" I asked him, looking at him as if he had gone mad. He certainly had, because he didn't just consider me a _friend_ of his. I know that that's the goal we're both going to achieve, but at the same time, it seems almost unreal that it's actually going to happen.

Alfred's cheeks lit up, and he chuckled nervously. "Eheheh, nothing, I didn't say anything!"

...

I was quiet; not a bad quiet, but not a good quiet either. I was neutral.

He continued to steal glimpses at me out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't say anything else. After a while, I just smiled and chuckled at him. "Alright, dear friend."

I still wonder if this really happened, but as I turned to look out the window once more, I noticed from my peripheral vision that Alfred gazed at me fully before staring at the road again with the brightest of smiles on his face and a spark of joy in his eyes.

It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.


End file.
